It’s called Social Distancing, not Social Encroaching

I am relatively fortunate in that I enjoy a healthy and varied social life. I have a good number of friends, very much of my own choosing, and we often partake in a variety of social occasions and catchups; from coffees to beers, dinners to balls, visiting each other’s  homes and whatever else you may be able to think of (primarily the pub).

These are people I have known for a long time and who’s company I have decided I enjoy. For reasons unbeknown to myself, they appear to feel the same way about me.

We meet on a regular basis, sometimes impromptu, but mainly after a certain degree of planning, this albeit ofttimes based on a phone-call 15 minutes prior to the event.

We do what everyone does. We have a chat and a catchup, share ridiculous ideas and musings, and more often than not affirm one another’s ability to run the world far better than the powers that be.

This is fine, and in fact, I enjoy it. I would even go as far as to say that I thrive of social contact.

Now however enter the %$&£fest called 2020, and our lives are seemingly changed forever with the rise and relentless development of what must certainly be the slightly delayed onset of the 2012 phenomena.  The globally successful pack animal with an unrivalled drive to procreate, otherwise know as the homo sapiens, is now being told that we cannot meet in packs, and in fact, cannot even get within inappropriate fondling distance of one another.

A situation so grave, catastrophic and utterly new to us, has, seemingly, split mankind into two distinct camps, with a few floaters in the middle; myself always having rejoiced in being a floater extraordinaire. On the one side, we have the frontline and essential workers, without whom our society would well and truly collapse, and who day after day continue to go to work and selflessly risk their lives for the greater good. On the other side, we have the now, ofttimes involuntary and under the most tragic circumstances, newly found couch-potato, with little more to do than count how much toilet roll they have left for the 7th time that day.

As mentioned, I, as a floater, fear not the threat of toilet roll, or lack thereof, nor do I need to go out and risk my life. I have things to do. I can work from my office in solitude, and life, albeit somewhat less rapidly and certainly with less entertainment, appears to tick by, day by day, without me falling into the abyss. On a weekend I may decide to have a bath, and of an evenings jolly, I may decide to catch up on a season of Spooks, having apparently slept through the noughties.

Whilst, quite happily, trundling through my days, I have noticed in recent weeks that the mindless and otherwise enviable British sense of pulling together is, well and truly, gushing all over social media. Never before have I seen so many offers of help extended to one another, and I cannot remember a time, even during the horrific terrorist atrocities we have had to endure in recent years, that people have been so downright chirpy and nice to each other.

Do not for a minute think that I am having a go at the above behaviour; it is admirable and we should all strive to emulate it. Furthermore, good on those who are going out of their way to help those who are unable to help themselves, or, who through no fault of their own, find themselves suddenly and ruthlessly flung into the depths of poverty and despair.

Amongst the many sincere and decent members of society however, there are always some who have to ruin it for their own selfish reasons. Enter the (not-so) newly developed trend of the self-obsessed, self-righteous and utterly repugnant virtue signalers; a term I have never thought I would use.

Ordinarily I wouldn’t care, and I would simply scroll past their garbage, stagnant and  attention seeking ‘look at me’ posts… but no! No such luck this time, for when you combine having sweet FA to do with being a self-righteous little tosspot, it eventually leads to you picking up the phone or sending people direct messages!

For the best part of two weeks, I have been inundated with calls and messages, and a variety of constant bings and dongs on my phone from people who I haven’t spoken to in years, don’t like, can’t stand, find boring and all of the above. DING, RING, BLOODY-BLING!!!!

Not only is this happening whilst I am trying to work, but also whilst I am trying to perform the various things we use our phones for nowadays, other than actually making phone calls (in my case it is playing A LOT of chess). It is happening whilst I am in the bath, it is happening whilst I am watching TV, it is happening whilst I am eating, it is happening whilst I am sleeping.

It doesn’t seem to matter to these people what time of day it is, because as we have already established, they have nothing better to do than phone with the marvelous tale of how long the queue at the shop was (WE ALL KNOW), and what they have bought themselves for dinner. At a push, this would be interesting once, but when you have heard a variation on the same from five people during a single day, who then decide to provide the same status update the next, and the next, and the next, then the abyss does feel like it is drawing just that bit closer. But no, it is totally acceptable to randomly interrupt someone during their day, not check whether they might actually be busy (because none of us are busy anymore, obvs) to talk about your own boring, boring and menial life, under the assumption that person has nothing better to do. After all, you are doing us all a favour and are clearly a hero, because you follow up with a hollow gesture of ‘stay safe’ and ‘if you need anything’.

This situation, for me, has now gotten so out of control that when someone I actually care about and want to talk to phones up (even if it is about their lunch), I am so exhausted from the mindless garbage of their five predecessor’s un-relentless spouting, that I unleash my frustration on them. That is, I suppose, the irony of being polite. We are nice and civil to those we don’t know or care for, yet we feel so comfortable around those we love, that we often don’t care to censor our thoughts.

It is a tragedy ladies and gentlemen, a social tragedy accompanying the clearly far graver tragedy bestowed upon us as I type, but a tragedy nonetheless. We will get through the coronavirus, with great losses and significant damage no doubt, but we will get through it. Will we ever however be able to reverse the virus of selfishness and self-promotion (says he with a personal website) that has taken a grip of our society?