Diary of a day in the new normal

Are you looking forward to a pint in a pub or a film at the cinema? Michael Hogan imagines how Saturday July 4 might pan out

9.30am

Leave the house. Keys, wallet, phone, face mask, hand sanitiser? Check. Have to wear unseasonably hot coat for the pocket space to carry them in.

9.51am

Arrive early for long-awaited 10am haircut. Crack self-deprecating joke about how dishevelled you look. Get offended when receptionist agrees. Realise there’s no complimentary cuppa or magazines to flick through. Resent arriving early.

10.07am

Stylist asks if you’ve trimmed your own fringe or attempted a DIY root touch-up. Deny both. Neither of you are convinced.

10.14am

Stylist’s full-face visor makes small talk even more stilted than usual. Both tacitly agree to give up. Feel relief.

10.27am

Suffer sudden hot flush during haircut. Worry staff will think you’re displaying signs of fever. Stress only makes you sweat more.

11.28am

After much faffing with sterilised combs and scissors, haircut is complete. You feel like a new man. Until noticing your overgrown eyebrows and neglected nails now look even worse. Try to tip hairdresser. Realise cash is the new kryptonite.

11.33am

Walk to tennis courts. Pass deserted cricket field. Feel pang of nostalgia for sound of willow on leather. Or is it the other way around? You’ve never understood cricket.

11.56am

Meet friend to play tennis. Bump elbows self-consciously over net before game begins. Ask if they’ve disinfected their balls. Immediately regret it.

12.51pm

Match ends. Decide against another elbow bump due to perspiration levels. Who knew elbows could sweat?

12.58pm

Dodge huffing, puffing joggers in park, wheezing all over you. Pray for indoor gyms to reopen or sales of home treadmills to soar.

1.04pm

Dodge feral children in park: often noisy, snotty and refusing to socially distance. Pray for soft play centres to reopen. And schools, even on Saturdays.

1.27pm

Ask friends – sorry, “one other household” from your “support bubble” – if they fancy a spot of lunch at reopened local restaurant?

1.28pm

Realise you haven’t preregistered to sit behind a perspex screen and it’s far easier to have lunch at home. Again.

2.43pm

Excitedly head to cinema. Lament lack of pick ’n’ mix. The rows of empty seats in the air-conditioned auditorium remind you of a Donald Trump rally.

3.05pm

Film starts, accompanied by persistent aroma of disinfectant. Lone coughers were annoying before – now, they’re toxic pariahs.

5.20pm

Exit cinema, remembering why you prefer the theatre. Shame they’re not open yet. But hey, at least model villages are. Who needs live arts when there are tiny towns to look at? Just remember to abide by the 2cm rule.

8.01pm

Excitedly arrive at pub.

8.09pm

After hand-sanitising, giving your personal details, downloading a special app and following the one-way system around the premises, you eagerly approach the bar. Everyone stares like you’ve just farted in a library. Apologetically retreat to pre-booked table.

8.17pm

Ah, finally. Your first pub pint in months arrives. This is the life. Are we allowed to chink glasses?

8.41pm

You’re ready for another round, but can’t get up, and can’t get the bar staff ’s attention (plus ça

change). This is lucky in one sense, as the queue for the loos is out of control, now half are taped off. Own personal beer garden at home starts to seem a lot more appealing.

8.55pm

That’s better. Cheaper, more relaxing and with easier toilet access. This new normal isn’t quite as good as the old normal, is it?