A virus that spreads via actual contact? How on earth has this happened? Don’t we all live valiantly via Facebook, Twitter and what’s the other one, Instagram? When did conversations with real life people become the social norm? Wasn’t life once conducted online with public declarations of love for partners who are in the same house, usually the same room and who are also conducting their own tweets, shares and likes?
Ok, I know it’s not so simple, even I, a self-confessed social recluse sits less than two meters away from her nearest work colleague and I certainly stand close enough to people in the kitchen, because lets face it, there is tea involved and it’s actual hot tea, with steam and everything. But suddenly, I am questioning whether I really am managing to avoid social interaction with real life people.
I avoid small talk, yes. I avoid going to hairdressers, mainly because they ask me if I am going out tonight, I haven’t been out since 2011. I avoid circumstances where any response other than ‘yes, and you?’ is required. In the supermarket my husband gives me that ‘really?’ look when I insist on self service even though there are 14 empty tills with fedup looking staff manning them, the fear of actual conversation about my daily plans or the weather sending me into waves of panic.
I am defiantly not part of any mum group at the school gates, choosing instead to quietly smile at the Grandma’s then stare at the floor or pretend whatever snack the little one is chomping on is the most exciting thing this year. Eye contact is defiantly not my tool in the absolute fear that it would encourage someone to try and talk to me. On the other hand, my husband, upon his redundancy and subsequent business start up had a lot of time on his hands and took over the school run for a few months. I’ve since learned he has gained membership to the ‘Dad Group’, apparently this involves silent head nodding, the arms folded over the chest pose and conducting vague man chat to figure out what job the other does which would enable him to be a school gate Dad. I plan on buying him some jazzy leggings soon.