Anxiety about Social Distancing
(“SIX FEET I SAID!”)
On this, the month of the one-year anniversary of when the Coronavirus (once conveyed to me by a coworker, in its early days, as the “Corolla Virus”) came crashing into the states, there is no shortage of commemorative information available. I browsed many of the editorials regarding #PandemicReflections, and albeit each one relatable on one level or another, I decided to use my 31-year spanning career as a professional Stand-Up Comedian, to make my point about a personal incident, as well as the universal ANXIETY of it all.
Sure, I remember my first trip to the supermarket to try and locate the coveted toilet paper, which ended up becoming a Witch Hunt. But what was more memorable about this first public outing was trying to figure out just how to enter the store and still stay safe. I have never worn a mask before when shopping, nor have I experienced living in a Science fiction drama, that was now somewhat real. I recall sitting in the car, experimenting with my protective options (latex gloves, double mask, etc.) and sweating profusely. I was a nervous wreck, zipping around this new store in town, Lidl (I am a Shoprite regular) because a friend had informed me that I could find toilet paper there. Avoiding people, dashing, and shouting in lunacy, “six feet … six feet,” that I ended up running out of the store before too long, having only purchased a bottle of hair Conditioner … for a family of four, desperately in need of groceries.
When we did figure out shopping, we had a system. After the unfathomable stress-filled adventure of doing the shopping itself, and then promptly sanitizing in the car, I would call ahead to the house. My college-aged children were now home studying virtually, and my wife, who works as a school photographer, all were at home and manning their stations, as we disinfected every article in the garage, then carted them, assembly-line fashion, up to the kitchen in laundry baskets. This was followed by a change of clothes and a shower. The whole event was nap-worthy!
As an existing clinical Anxiety sufferer and self-proclaimed germophobe for years, therein lay my biggest challenge. My income as a Comedian had already taken huge hits with popularity now being weighed on your Social Media influence, so even prior to the Pandemic wiping my bookings calendar clean, I had to take a day job. On March 18, 2020, they shut the office down. However, being a faction of the government, we were called back to work in five weeks (that frustration for its own essay), as opposed to every other business, specifically in New Jersey, which had no definitive on their restarting. I simply could not believe that we had to return to the office and were not laid off, enabling us to collect unemployment.
That first morning, with metaphoric shackles on my ankles, I hesitantly made my way back to work. This involved stopping for a coffee and puffing a cigar in the convenience store parking lot, as I stared out into traffic, feeling disbelief. A cigarette smoker had the same idea, lit up, stood awfully close to me, and began the socializing ritual that tobacco addicts share of conversing. My knee-jerk instinct was taking a huge stride to the right, keeping my eyes forward (so as not to face him since we were both unmasked) and imploring protocol, apologized, blaming this still unfamiliar virus. Although he expressed understanding, he continued chatting to the side of my frozen in place head and habitually moved closer. As he did, my shying away was more subtle now, with tiny incremental steps — trying to remain polite but wanting to run away.
Well, since every picture tells a story, I wrote a quick sketch in the days that followed. Despite having a film major for a daughter and a son who majors in music, they typically want no part of my Comedic sensibilities. I kindly demanded that they ban together this one time and help me produce this real-life inspired moment on film. The result is here, in this one minute and thirty-two second YouTube video:
What Comes to Mind When You Think About the Pandemic Anniversary?
