We just went through a period where most of the people I know left their abodes only for essentials, and even then with trepidation. A trip to the grocery required wipes, latex gloves, perhaps some face covering and a plastic spray bottle filled with antiseptic alcohol, ever on the ready.
But today that game has changed. The government is now telling us not to go out even for groceries. Order in if you can. If all else fails, get take-out from a restaurant.
Which means we may all be shut in for the long haul. We will meet each other socially on-line, do our double dates over Zoom, pretend to share a beer. But we won’t actually be in physical contact with people outside our household.
These habits will start to be ingrained, as they become integrated into our daily rituals. I wonder whether, after we are once again free to roam the earth, we will have found ourselves changed in fundamental ways.
Maybe we won’t enjoy the bar or restaurant crowded with strangers in quite the same way. We might get an uneasy feeling when packed tightly into a concert venue.
In the future, we might all acquire agoraphobia. But that’s not the strangest thing. No, the strangest thing is that being agoraphobic might simply come to seem normal.
Once in college I poisoned myself with a tuna sandwich that sat out a little too long. I recovered in a few days, but I was literally afraid eating food – any food – for a week or so afterwards out of fear of getting sick again.
I got over it. In fact, I just finished eating a tuna sandwich a few minutes before reading your post.