I’d shake your hand, but…
During COVID, I think everybody sort of wants to punch everybody else in the face.
But I also think everyone misses touching and approaching one another. Don’t get me wrong. Some people still walk right up to me and I’m like “nope.”
But many people look as if they are being guided by an invisible puppeteer. Their pivot gait is guided by avoiding whoever comes near, making their steps flowless.
It’s like the whole world is in a state of sexual frustration, but instead of sex, it’s proximity. Proximity frustration. We’re hoping these masks work. They are better than hiding in our basements, but they don’t feel as good. However, since feelings are bigger than science, some people go with feelings. To hell with the risky COVID pregnancy.
I’ve read that white people are afraid of confrontation. We would much rather talk behind each other’s backs or scream “asshole” into our pillows than tell each other how we feel. If it weren’t for Facebook, I wouldn’t know how anyone felt.
I’m a white person, so when I see these people I know, maskless, I don’t say, “What’s the deal, Karl?” I call my friend Jules and say, “Another sighting. You won’t believe who’s not wearing a mask.”
Meanwhile, nobody is allowed to touch. And everybody is acting like we were all touching all the time before. It’s like beer goggles. You suddenly need to be on top of someone you weren’t interested in two hours ago. It feels as if everybody is being kept from you.
I’m very social. Normally, I consider it my duty to greet everyone. Do I like it? Who knows? I was raised to think it’s my party and I’m the host. Saying it that way, of course, I’m embarrassed, but who cares?
Apparently, my need to be perfect and not have embarrassing characteristics is a form of being raised in a white supremacist culture. White people are very embarrassed about not being perfect, and we should be, considering how many advantages we have been given. Worrying about being perfect is a form of entitlement because only the entitled have time to worry about that shit. The unentitled are too busy.
Every day, I have a sighting of people not adhering to the rules. People who are not social distancing and/or not wearing a mask. There are those heretic park kids, who have been there all summer: No masks, sharing phones, sitting close.
The nerve of those parents!
There is a demonic birthday party on the beach. The only time they put on the masks is for a photo. I feel for the dad, who is hosting. He says things like, “Don’t do anything that wouldn’t be okay with your mom.” He says this when one girl is braiding another girl’s hair, which is clearly extremely dangerous.
I have a friend who has found a personal solution. It might not save the world, but maybe.
She bought a punching bag. An extremely attractive punching bag.