Singletons feel the strain of social distancing
HOW many relationships has the coronavirus put paid to? How many happy couples have come to the conclusion that, after two months in lockdown, they cannot stand one another?
Quite a few I’d wager. But what can be done? They must stick it out like the rest of us, swallow down those murderous thoughts and play nice until restrictions ease, survive until Phase 3, 4, long enough to carry out their escape plan.
Chances are, a lot of these star-crossed lovers would happily swap places with me right now; an apartment all to myself, a quiet, peaceful working environment, no one talking, coughing, breathing, in my general vicinity.
Yes, the single life has its benefits during a pandemic: statistically my living arrangements mean I am 50% less likely to contract the virus and 100% less likely to throttle a significant other for rolling their eyes at me one time too many.
But it’s not all positive. These are worrying times for the unhitched, the unloved and the unloveable.
Those in relationships might be spending too much together (or not enough, if you live apart) but the rest of us are wondering if Covid-19 has consigned us to months, years, maybe even a lifetime of solitude.
According to the roadmap we can now congregate outside, with people from other households; have conversations, play a bit of tennis, go to Woodies, the opticians, run about a bit, so long as we don’t touch.
How do you sell that as a potential first date to someone on Tinder?
Because oh yes, that’s where we are now: dating apps. Every one of us. The pubs are shut, the nightclubs closed, our venues of choice are off-limits, the usual tactics no longer apply. Approaching a winsome stranger on the street and asking for directions to the discotheque could see one tasered in the current climate.
So we’re swiping and matching like never before. But what then? What’s the point?
‘Hey, do you fancy a cup of coffee on Zoom?’ ‘A movie night on Houseparty?’
The best I’ve managed to come up with so far is a line about going for a walk on the beach, one in which we hold hands, maybe more, and are then forced to flee the authorities, going on the lam like a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, minus the bloodshed.
That didn’t play well. Nor did the offer to drive by their houses, beeping the horn, Al Green’s greatest hits playing on loudspeaker as I scatter sanitised roses on their porch.
Realistically, it could be August before we get back out there, before the nation’s ravenous, sex-starved singletons can resume their collective quest for love, mindlessly paw one another without fear of reprisal, convince one another they’re the one when they’re just another one.
Even then it will be different, more awkward than ever before. Previously all we had to worry about was a person’s sexual health and what form of contraception would be most preferable in any future transactions.
Now we’re going to need a medical cert before we can even consider inviting someone in. And we’re going to need one from both their parents, all their workmates and the taxi driver who brought them into town.
As for contraception, well, if you thought condoms killed the passion, that will be nothing compared to ‘gowning up’ in full PPE; seductively pulling on a pair of vinyl gloves as your beloved watches on from behind a facemask.
Yet there is some hope out there for those envisaging dates spent on one side of a perspex window, chatting on those little plastic phones like you see in American prison movies.
Coming face to face with one’s own mortality can have a revitalising effect on people, it can compel them to do things they’d always wanted to do but were too afraid to tackle. For some this will just mean doing a bungee jump or finally cleaning out the spare room.
But for others it will mean acting upon a suppressed urge, summoning up the courage to ask you, yes you, out on a date after years of hesitation. And if and when that date happens they will know, just as well as you do, the coronavirus could come back at any time, this could be your very last chance at love, and you should both act now before it’s too late.