I’m back from a few days in the Bay Area, where I spent two days in Oakland and then three more across the Bay in San Francisco. And boy, is my vax card tired.
San Francisco and Berkeley, but not Oakland, require proof of vaccination for customers 12 and older to enter indoor bars, restaurants, clubs, gyms and large indoor events. You have to flash a card to enter establishments, even in the anti-establishment Bay Area.
And they want to see not only your card but your photo ID, just to verify that your card is actually your card and not someone else’s.
I showed my proof of vaccination in Berkeley at a restaurant and in San Francisco at three restaurants, two coffeehouses, an art museum and — high-culture alert — the opera. (When I held my phone outside the opera, my pinky finger was not extended, or any other fingers for that matter, and a matron didn’t peer at my card through a lorgnette.)
That’s eight times in four days, compared with only once up to this point in Southern California. Who says the Bay Area is laid back compared to SoCal?
I almost was asked a ninth time at a mall food court in San Francisco. I had googled Shake Shack, my favorite chain, and discovered the city — or The City, as residents self-importantly call it — has two, one of which was tucked inside an enclosed mall a block from my hotel. Too close to pass up.
In the most indulgent meal of a vacation largely spent chewing vegetables, I got a burger, fries and frozen custard, then took a chair in the mall’s central seating area.
The security guard was on break, which is why I got in without question. When she returned, she screened people a few feet from where I was sitting. It made for fun people-watching. Some fished out printed cards, while others brought out their phone.
No one objected or didn’t have a card. Although to be fair I was watching for under half an hour — even the Shake Shack version of a three-course meal is not a lengthy affair — and a longer stay might have had a wider range of results.
The only real entertainment was a trio of folks in their 60s, one of whom asked wryly, “We have to show ID to eat here?”, before grasping that the request was for his vaccination card.
The couple immediately pulled out their phones to show theirs. The man who’d asked about ID tried to comply but had only taken a photo of his card, evidently quite some time ago.
The couple stood patiently, and the guard stoically, as he scrolled backwards through months of photos of who knows what, plates of food and his dog probably, for three very long minutes.
Finally he located the right photo, showed it and they all went through. I overheard him tell his friends he had just texted the photo to himself so he can find it more quickly next time. Let’s hope.
It’s a lot simpler if you just download it from myvaccinerecord.cdph.ca.gov. Then it’s in your phone’s digital wallet and ready at a moment’s notice.
That’s where mine is stashed after my healthcare provider sent me a copy. It sat there untouched for weeks. The only time I recall having to show it was at a pizzeria in Atwater Village in September.
I was relieved to have had it on me that day, and strangely delighted that someone had finally wanted to see it, as if it were a photo of a grandchild.
Soon the friend who was meeting me arrived. He had biked halfway there, suddenly wondered if he might need his card and pedaled back home, got his paper card and rode to the restaurant. Is that forward thinking? Half-forward thinking? Anyway, he got in.
That restaurant was among those that had instituted the requirement as their choice of whom to serve, like the standard “no shirt, no shoes” deal. But it’s expanding soon as a public health mandate. Indoor venues like restaurants, movie theaters and shopping malls in L.A. County will require vaccine proof starting Nov. 4.
Does any business in the Inland Empire require proof of vaccination to enter? Palm Springs is the only city that does so for bars and restaurants, although proof of a negative coronavirus test is also accepted.
It’s hard to see this catching on out here. Although I like to imagine, say, Norco or Temecula trying it, just to picture everyone’s head exploding (and ten-gallon hat flying off).
Personally I don’t mind showing the card, which may put me in the minority in the IE.
It’s mildly intrusive, yes. But we’re in a global pandemic, which still seems lost on some people. If we can lower the transmission rate and avoid another winter surge, that will help schools keep in-person instruction and businesses to continue to operate and, oh yeah, keep people out of hospitals or the morgue.
Breakthrough infections happen, but they’re relatively rare, like 1 in 5,000, and as you’ve heard, this is basically a pandemic of the unvaccinated.
Having to show my card had a pleasant psychological effect. Taking a seat inside a restaurant knowing that patrons around me were double-vaxxed allowed me to feel comfortable and relax.
And when you’re on vacation, relaxing is what it’s all about.
brIEfly
Highway 62 Art Tours, the Morongo Basin’s art walk, takes place Saturday and Sunday, the third of three weekends for this 20th annual event. Some 165 artists across eight desert communities are represented; see hwy62arttours.org for details. “I spent last weekend in the Joshua Tree area bumping around on dirt roads to see artists and their works in their studios,” reader Mary Gabe of Riverside tells me. “It was a fabulous time. I would so love it if you would write about them in your Friday column.” Done.
David Allen aims to please Friday, Sunday and Wednesday. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on Twitter.
