The COVID-19 lockdowns have been worthless. We’ve been shutdown for months, and more people than ever are sick. The virus is like, “You really think you can hide from me? Do you know who I am? I’m the virus, dammit, and I’ll find you wherever you are. You’re not dealing with some chump here. I will take you down. I’m the virus, dammit!” While closing everything down, believing we could stow ourselves away from this plague, we’ve bankrupt countless businesses, putting jobless people in a worse situation than if they had just got the virus. We’ve closed schools making our kids dumber than they were before, but with more video gaming time. The statistics show that one in a thousand die from the infection. Those are seasonal flu numbers, and we’ve stopped the world for that. Well, the lockdowns have managed to accomplish a few things.
The virus shutdowns have made me lazier than I ever was, which I never thought was possible. With no place that’s opened, there’s not much to do in the outside world. My entertainment is going to the drug store then the grocery store. Sometimes, for a change of pace, I’ll go to the grocery store and then the drug store. Lately, my big new errand is to try and find some underground place that cuts hair. I look like a sheep dog with nowhere to go. My friend set me up with some shady guy he had met through another friend. I met this guy in a back alley behind a Walgreens. He seemed really nervous as he looked around:
“Anybody follow you?” the shady guy asked.
“I don’t think so,” I cautiously replied.
“You got the money,” he inquired.”
“Yeah, twenty bucks, right?” I said as I started pulling out the money.
“Don’t take that out here,” he snapped. “Let’s go around back and do this thing.”
We go around back. I hand him the money. He looks around and makes sure no one is watching. Then, he whips out his scissors and cuts my hair. Nobody was fined. The state government was none the wiser. And I was on my way with a neat, long overdue, back alley trim.
The lockdowns have not only made me lazier but fatter. Somehow sitting around and doing nothing but eating has packed on a few pounds. Crazy how that works. Plus, all the gyms are closed, finally providing you with a valid excuse not to work out. So, I’m left doing curls with my cheeseburger and presses with my fries. At some point, we will all emerge out of our bunkers, squinting at the sun light, and see our friends and relatives we were forbidden to gather with, and everybody’s going to look totally different.
“Damn Bob, it looks like you’ve been stuffing your face with wedding cake for the past eight months,” Johnny states.
“Me? What about you? You looked like you swallowed a whole SUV,” Bob fires back.
With nowhere to go, I’m stuck at home watching too much tv. Binging on Netflix is not a path to prosperity, but it does distract you from any poverty. A typical night for me is finding a cool movie to watch, then forty-five minutes into it, realize I’ve seen it before. I have a feeling many who became work-at-home newbies have been enjoying that Netflix instead of doing sales calls or some financial pie charts like they’re supposed to. That damn virus has now made us all Netflix junkies. We can’t remember the names of our kids, but we can tell you what happens in the Tiger King series.
Over the holidays, the powers-that-be warned you not to have any festive gatherings with friends and family. It was big no-no with no no turkey for you. They wanted you to Zoom your holiday. It’s just not the same as getting together. Twenty faces are on the screen, all of them having their own conversations as they talk over each other. Uncle Joe is hammered, spewing incoherent sentences with a raspy laugh, Aunt Lily is holding up items she found at a rummage sale and Grandpa has half his face in the screen mumbling “how did you all get in the computer?”
It’s just not the same gathering over a Zoom call. Holidays were meant for family and friends to get together in one place. To share each other’s company. Is there anything better than eating a yummy pie that someone brought over? Listening to a black sheep relative telling you about a million-dollar investment he’s secretly involved in and wants to bring you and your money aboard? Or some family member at the dinner table announcing she is now gay as everyone sits in stunned silence. “More pie anyone?” her mother asks in hopes of changing the subject. Nothing beats meeting in person.
The truth of the matter is lockdowns haven’t worked. The COVID-19 case numbers are higher than ever while everyone has supposedly been hunkered down in their house bunkers for months. The officials in charge don’t realize how elusive that sneaky virus is. It will slip through a keyhole and hunt you done like you’re a fox in the English countryside. It’ll tease and mock you and drive you crazy. “I’m over here. Now I’m over here” he taunts before moving in for the kill. I try to look on the bright side. Maybe the lockdowns weren’t so bad. You got to spend a lot of time around the family, and you realized how much you missed going into the office. You promise to never bitch about work again and pray these lockdowns end soon.
by Jeff Charlebois: wheelfunnystuff.com
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