Friday was my appointment to get the Pfizer booster. Originally I had a jab scheduled for two weeks earlier, but I changed it when it was clear I'd still be on jury duty that day. (Ironically, the court let me out early enough that I could just have made it up there on time if I dashed, but I didn't care to make that much effort to face a probable argument with the bureaucracy.)
I expected to be in line amid a sea of 5-11 year-olds, but no. Adults, older ones getting the booster and younger ones finally getting around to their first jab. This clinic was rather small-scale. They'd moved it indoors from the parking lot set-up where I got my initial jabs in the spring, and into a conference room in an adjacent clinic building. This also meant I had to park in a garage I was unfamiliar with, the kind where you can't get oriented and find your car when you come back, yadda yadda.
There was a line, but it was fast and efficient, and in the post-shot waiting area there were giant tv screens all showing, with the sound way down, Shrek. So I got to watch a chunk of that excellent film, from "Ogres are like onions" to "It talks!" "Yeah, it's getting him to shut up that's the trick" (I already know all the dialogue from this movie, I don't need to be able to hear it) before heading on my way, now prepared, I hope, to face a family Thanksgiving and all.