No reusable cups? I’ve now had enough of the coronavirus…
The virus has turned eco-orthodoxies on their head. Sorry, Greta – needs must
There is much to read about the coronavirus – you can read about it all day, every day, if you so choose, yet still remain none the wiser. One newspaper provides minute-byminute updates which, while gripping, hardly help with practical detail.
Indeed, while I learnt of the latest case in Egypt as soon as it was announced, was fully abreast of the man tasered during a fight over the last remaining loo roll in a shop in Australia, and found myself transfixed by 3D modelling of the mutating virus, I am becoming slightly anxious about other queries that seem more pressing.
For instance: where are the secret stocks of hand sanitiser? Are the Chinese ones going for a fortune on Amazon any good? How many tins of beans does one need for a two-week quarantine – and how about four weeks? And so on.
It gets all the more confusing with social etiquette. Speaking on the Today programme last month, Professor John Oxford from Queen Mary University said reducing physical interactions with other people was key. “It’s a social virus,” he explained. “I think we have to galvanise ourselves in our social actions – how we interact with people… that is extremely important; more so than wearing a mask. I think that’s a total diversion.”
I’ve stopped hugging and kissing people too forcefully in case they’re panicked about germs – that seems considerate. I’ve run into some people who have greeted me with a kind of kick, or foot salute – apparently the new thing.
And I had lunch in a packed café at the Barbican last week with someone who brazenly went in for the hugs and kisses – declaring with a show of British bravado: “I’m not scared of corona!” He didn’t stop to wonder if I was, and I thought how awkward it might have been had I not wanted to return the embrace.
Still, refraining from touching others is a damn sight easier to do than remembering to not touch your own face. Not putting fingers to mouth, nose or eyes turns out to be far easier said than done.
Last week, there was much uproar and amusement when Sara Cody, public health director for Santa Clara County, California, ordered the citizenry at a news conference: “Start working on not touching your face.” Within 60 seconds she had forgotten her own advice, licking her finger to turn a page of notes.
The same day, US congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez repeatedly scratched her nose and flicked her hair at a press conference about coronavirus prevention, while encouraging the public to be “diligent” about not doing the same.
All this raises vexing questions: if you see someone touch their face (applying Vaseline to their lips, rubbing their eyes, blowing their nose), should you give them a death stare? Refuse to touch anything they’ve touched? Where does it end?
I’ve begun worrying about contactless payments on Tube sensors – my debit card is covered in my germs and hits a sensor up to five times a day, which has in turn been hit by millions of other debit cards, all covered in their owners’ germs… and so on. What to do?
Then there are the eco-orthodoxies being turned on their head. If generally one is silently judged for not having a personal, reusable “keep cup”, now the tables have turned.
Starbucks, having banned nondisposable cups (and “for here” mugs for customers in-store) in the US last week, has now temporarily put an end to them here, too. All drinks served in Starbucks will now be in disposable cups instead. Sorry, Greta – needs must.
Our collective madness over pets also raises questions. I’ve long insisted we’ve gone overboard treating our pets like humans, crooning at them and kissing them and letting them lick our plates on the table.
Well, now the first case of humanto-dog transmission of the Covid-19 virus has been found in Hong Kong. Smooching your pooch could actually be endangering it.
And spare a thought for the nation’s singles. Last week brought news of coronavirus porn going, erm, viral, with performers cavorting in masks and hazmat suits.
But is dating in a pre-epidemic wise? What’s more important – the quest for intimacy or corona caution? And are you more likely to catch the virus by snogging someone than by simply riding the (still-packed) Tube?
Who knows, but last week, Tinder issued an advice notice, which pops up between profiles, warning: “We want you to continue to have fun, [but] protecting yourself from the coronavirus is more important.”
Then there’s the looming threat of isolation and quarantine – what does this mean for those who live alone? Are single people allowed to call for friends or company?
Or must they simply grin and bear literal solitary confinement – which, when ill, is very far from ideal? So many questions, so few being answered.