Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash
After being deprived of social, human contact for several months, and my attempts at performing observational comedy being limited to the audience of shopkeepers and my boyfriend's snake, I'm afraid I'll have lost all my social skills by the time this is over. I don't just fail at hanging up on an online call without repeating "hm okay bye yeah bye bye see ya bye" on a loop as I press the red button. My lockdown awkwardness has even expanded beyond real time interactions and bled into misinterpreting someone else's comments and texts 90% of the time. I'm never absolutely confident that I'm translating the meaning and tone in what they're saying correctly and if I think I do, it's always negative. It's as if the act of talking in real time is an activity so far away from our reality before lockdown, that it can't be anything but sarcastic during it. Thanks for nothing, supposedly matured brain. Perhaps it's the lack of reassurance that I used to get from good and positive social stimulation, or maybe it's just my subconscious and insecurities speaking louder than before, surfacing closer day by day.
Pseudo-psychology aside, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's a little scared to go back to normal, whatever version of normal that will be, and having to interact with lots of people again every single day. To make sure I won't be Matt Hancock looking like he's watching his prey in every social interaction, I've thought about how I can possibly avoid any post-lockdown awkwardness.
To prevent myself from starting off on the wrong foot, the key is to find alternative ways to greet someone. We've already been conditioned to think that handshakes are an absolute no-no, so let's hope we keep it that way. Waving also seems a bit much and I don't want to run the risk of acting like an alien who's studied human behaviour for a few months to blend in. Perhaps the best way to say hello will be a short and snappy "hiya!" from across the street, while accelerating the speed of my footsteps to indicate that I'm too busy to stop for a chit chat. This protects whoever is concerned from feeling offended as they'll know it's not them, but me. The pretended busyness is obviously a lie, but the latter isn't, so we'll roll with that.
If small talk feels as unnatural and forced as it always has been, maybe it's better to avoid it altogether by hiding between the shelves in Tesco for example, or wherever I may be. After all, I've perfected the skill of avoiding running into people to keep a distance from other customers during lockdown, so I might as well put it to good use afterwards, too. However, if an acquaintance spots me first, there's always the option to stare at the ground and pretend I didn't see them. It's not the best alternative solution but it'll have to do for the time being.
For as long as handshakes still make us cringe, we should be safe from hugs too. The key is to never initiate an embrace first, and to limit it to dogs for emergencies only. Maybe other people's pets will actually turn out to be a lifesaver for avoiding social expectations? Especially if I'm stumbling into someone while walking in a group, I can just quickly take control of the situation by squatting straight down to their dog's level while my friends can do the talking. This way, I can avoid being seen as the post-lockdown hermit with zero social skills that I've become, and rather be the lovely post-lockdown hermit who loves your dog.
When it comes to avoiding awkwardness while traveling, city dwellers should have no problem as we've trained to avoid eye contact to the point where I'm almost certain that most people know every single tube advert by heart. The regular rules should apply: if you've got a book, headphones or a phone, you should be fine. If your phone is dead and you don't want to put your headphones on to at least pretend you're listening to music, there's always one last trick to avoid accidentally staring at someone: closing your eyes. Travelling, no matter how long your commute, has always been exhausting anyway, therefore justifying conscious sleeping on transport. It's like sleeping with your eyes open, just instead of being creepy, it'll save us from the awkwardness I'm sure I'll feel when adjusting back to everyday life. Whenever that might be.