Anyone who knows me will tell you I have the social skills of a rotting corpse…and that’s on a good day. I’ve never been much of a mingler, but not due to a fear of catching no stinking viruses. I’m just not made that way. I’m a live and let live kind of guy. You have your space; stay the fuck out of mine. OK, I’m not that rude about it. I’d never say “stay the fuck out of mine” to anyone, because I’d have to talk to them and I avoid conversation like I avoid viruses.
Some people crave interaction with others. Beware of these people! You know the type I’m talking about; they go on and on relating every detail of their lives as if anyone gives a shit. Hell, I’m barely interested in my own life! The CDC refers to these annoying people as “virus spreaders.” I refer to them as “pains in the ass.”
They engage in the strange human ritual of handshaking. Anthropologists believe the pressing of one’s palm against another person’s palm was started in Greece way back in the fifth century BC. Throughout the world, this tradition has spread like a virus ever since, despite the fact that it was the Greeks who thought shoving one’s penis into another person’s anus was a good idea.
People like me are referred to as introverts. We dread social interaction such as palm-pressing and penis-into-anus shoving. We hate expressing ourselves in ways other than writing, drawing, painting, singing, dancing, eye-rolling, bird-flipping or, as a last resort, talking to ourselves. Yes, we are a fucked-up group.
But, it has taken the threat of a deadly virus to make the world see that we introverts had been doing it right all along. As of this writing, the Coronavirus, AKA COVID-19 (from the Latin “covidus nineteenus” meaning “Stay the fuck away 19”), has taken the lives of roughly 12,000 people. If there were any justice, this number would include every member of the Trump crime family and a majority of Congress. But there is no justice, so a large number of the dead are the weakest of the weak—the one’s for whom Trump and his minions care less than a shit about. (Yes, I ended that last sentence with a preposition. Deal with it.) So, the government has suggested that the best way to fight this virus is through social distancing. All our lives, we introverts have been practicing the whole social distancing thing (and washing our hands, for god’s sake!). While other’s crumble under this new way of life, we snicker and say, “What’s the big deal?”
But it does seem to be a big deal to the stupid who horde firearms, ammo and toilet paper, (confirming my long-held position that gun-nuts are ass-wipes) with the intention, I guess, of shooting the virus should it come knocking at their doors and then afterwards celebrating with a good, healthy shit. Hopefully, they’ll follow that up with a vigorous hand-washing to the tune of Happy Birthday (twice).
But this is all just temporary—all viruses are. True, some of us will be gone when it’s over, but there will be enough of us left to keep this planet occupied for quite some time by its deadliest virus: the human race.
So, hang in there, fellow space travelers. Put away your guns and ammo and ease up on the hording. In time, most of you will make it through this period of adjustment and some will come away with at least a better appreciation of keeping your distance.
And a sparkling clean pair of hands.