The Modern Hunter-Gatherer
I wake up and almost immediately begin thinking about food. My wife or the maids will tell me about various shortages. I grunt as I scan my brain — what is available, what is difficult, what’s just impossible. This was never my domain before, things just appeared. Now I must provide.
Around 10 AM the shops open and I scan through two delivery apps. I check these as fervently as the news, with less tragic results. Today there is bread, and an egg shop somewhat inexplicably selling face masks. There is, however, a distinct shortage of fruit. I should have chased the truck in the morning.
When you see prey you must strike, and in large quantities. You never know what tomorrow will bring. It’s feast or famine. My district has been under full curfew for a month now, without even access to supermarkets or pharmacies. You have to get what you can when you can, and more than enough.
So I place multiple orders and wait. There are still things I simply cannot find right now, but I’m always looking. Then there are the unexpected delicacies, like a kombucha that appeared, many scrolls down the digital plain. I watch every day in hope. I scan menus like a hunter would follow footprints.
