Being An Extrovert During A Global Pandemic
Ever since I was a child, I have loved people and to this day, I will talk to literally anyone - people in line for the bathroom, people sitting next to me on planes, people at the dog park…
I once made friends with an opera singer while waiting in line for beer at a concert (Hi Alexandra!), I’ve had multiple conversations about assorted terrible boyfriends with make-up artists and hair stylists, talked about rising water levels with some random dude at a hotel bar and once talked to a guy for 45 minutes about how he used to push “keys on keys on keys” of cocaine while waiting for a cop….that I called to help him out - it was a whole thing.
Sidebar - this mentality is 100% the reason a cop I know says I’m the girl most likely to get kidnapped.
It helps that I labor under the delusion that everyone finds me as charming as I find myself.
Thinking about it - my parents did an excellent job raising me to have such high self-esteem. I really do carry myself with the confidence of a mediocre white dude.
Anyway - people? Love them. Love talking to them, love hearing their stories, love making connections between our lives.
I’m with Yeats on this one - “There are no strangers here. Only friends you haven’t yet met but right now, I think Steinbeck might be right (as he often is) - “Maybe ever'body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.”
I get it. I’m scared too.
Not necessarily of people but rather a virus and the duly incompetent leadership guiding us.
The best thing we can do to protect ourselves and one another is to stay at home and that’s exactly where I’ve been for the past two weeks.
I’m lucky enough to work from my dining room while a pudgy cat naps to my right.
For the sake of preserving my mental health, I’m trying to make this experience as calming as possible, utilizing the principles of hygge living:
lighting sandalwood incense and candles.
cuddling up with my dogs and the cat (who, I swear, is lulling me into a false sense of complacency before he murders me in the face).
listening to classical music and jazz instead of true crime podcasts.
baking bread (no-one ever tells you to grease the goddamn parchment paper. I ended up with a gorgeous boule of bread…with a shitload of paper stuck to it and you know what? I ate it anyway. There’s a flour and yeast shortage going on right now and it’s still bread).
brewing pot after pot of tea because as the English will tell you - “Colonize those bastards.” Wait. No. Wrong English sentiment. The best quote I heard about Brits and their/our penchant for tea came following the 7/7 terror attacks in London from someone only identified as jslayeruk: “When the news reporter said “Shopkeepers are opening their doors bringing out blankets and cups of tea” I just smiled. It’s like yes. That’s Britain for you. Tea solves everything. You’re a bit cold? Tea. Your boyfriend has just left you? Tea. You’ve just been told you’ve got cancer? Tea. Coordinated terrorist attack on the transport network bringing the city to a grinding halt? TEA DAMMIT! And if it’s really serious, they may bring out the coffee. The Americans have their alert raised to red, we break out the coffee. That’s for situations more serious than this of course. Like another England penalty shoot-out.”
But it’s tough because I’m a really social person and derive a lot of energy and joy from just being around people.
I miss being around people.
I miss dumb shit like recommending Makeb’s to a stranger because they make the best veggie cream cheese, telling someone I love their polka dot dress, talking to my co-workers about my dogs, grinning at a stranger because we’re both singing along to Madonna playing overhead or making friends with drunk girls in public bathrooms.
Above all, I miss sharing meals with people. Cooking big Indian dinners for friends, going over to Mom’s and eating “house food” - the simple, rustic stuff you’d serve your family but never a guest or going out to dinner with friends, holding my fork out and saying, “Dude. You have to try this. I think there’s harissa paste in it? I don’t know. It’s delicious. Try it.”
So to all of my introvert friends - I know this is your Superbowl and you guys know how to handle this better than I do.
But do me a favor and check in on your extrovert friends. This is weird for us and we’re trying to do the right thing, but we miss being out in the world a lot.
Just don’t check in on me by calling. I worked at a call center for a year and that is enough to traumatize anyone from using the phone ever again.
