Before I open any shop door, I make sure to roll the ends of my sleeves over my fist, slowly pushing the door away from me as I enter. I even try to keep a distance before tapping my card at the speed of light, which I guess really just ends up slowing down the process as I'm forced to tap it five times before it works. During my daily walk to get all that sweet Vitamin D I can't just swallow anymore since my tablets have run out, any other living soul that spots me from a mile away immediately crosses the street, looking down as if to indicate that it's nothing personal.
There's many small ways in which we've all minimised contact with the outside world. Now that people hugging and romantically exchanging spit and germs in films make us cringe, I wonder if we'll subconsciously carry some of our habits into our post-quarantine world. Besides the leftover hand sanitisers that'll rest in our pockets and bags, I'm almost certain there'll be other ways we try to eliminate any traces of closely co-existing with others in confined spaces. Just thinking of the tube already terrifies me.
On a positive note, this might finally be the end of people invading each others' personal space. No more leaning in as if they're about to sniff your face. No more awkward handshakes unless we're entirely comfortable. The strength of misogyny will be put to the test as well, as I'm crossing my fingers that drunk creeps will have turned too much into germophobes to give out unsolicited kisses at the bar. Then again, that might be the same idiots that believed alcohol or cocaine could kill coronavirus.
Imagine if in a post-quarantine world, waving from across the street will not only suffice as a polite hello, but even be seen as a genuinely considerate form of greeting someone you only ever half befriended by adding them on Facebook. There'll be no need to get closer while awkwardly staring at each other, dreading the small talk that’s about to begin. Maybe it will eliminate our suffering during hungover trips to the shop where you're already squeezing your eyes together in pain, squinting at the sun your chatty acquaintance decided to stand in front of. People will be too wrapped up in their own journey to do all this, feeling like they're quickly running errands outside just so they can go back inside again. At least that's what it feels like for me now.
Holding doors open for each other will finally be recognised as the nuisance that it's been all along. Waiting for someone to half jog towards the door you're pretending to hold for them will be seen as nothing more than the self-congratulatory act disguised as politeness that it is. No one will dare to have that smug look on their face, 8 am on the way to the tube, travel mug in their hand, and so on time that they're not even considering to sprint towards the platform. It'll be every man left on their own, invisibly moving through the city and its shop entries.
There was only one time during quarantine when I held the door open for an older lady in front of me, mask on, hand clenched into a fist and wrapped around in two layers of clothing. Not only did I hold it for so long, I worried I was creating a queue behind me, but someone else actually ended up putting his (uncovered!!!) fully stretched out hand on the glass door as I walked through. In what was meant to be a simple act of politeness, I nearly created a chain of bare-hands-on-door touching, with absolutely no idea whether those people washed their hands when they got home. Luckily, the chain didn't actually develop and my town is so small I'm not even sure it's traceable on Google Maps, so I just trusted in my stranger taking the right steps to sanitise his hands when he got home. However, I don't think I'll ever forget the one second of horror I felt in that moment.
It's crazy to think about how many habits we've already picked up within such a short amount of time. Even though it's clear that not everyone is following the rules, there is somewhat of a consensus on what behaviour we should condemn and condone. Part of me is hoping that the present we're living now will be buried so deeply in our past, that we can almost chuckle at the impulses that will remain in us, reminding us of the collective spirit we created without a single touch.