At least if you wear a mask no one can see you scream
Oh, it’s exhausting, isn’t it? Living in the coronavirus pandemic is like having an untrained puppy tied to your leg while attempting to skip – inevitably you end up in a tangle.
For starters, the mask thing is a minefield. As we all know, masks are now mandatory in most public indoor spaces across the UK, but what exactly that means and how it’ll be enforced isn’t very clear. Aside from the
£100 fine you could get if a TfL worker chooses to make an example of you, it’s hard to tell what “mandatory” actually means.
As far as I’m concerned, people who refuse to wear masks without valid exemption should be refused entry to any space where mask-wearing is required. As I’m sure we’ve all witnessed recently, the kind of people who don’t want to wear masks for no reason apart from “not wanting to” can sometimes be pretty intimidating. And pity the poor sap on door duty who didn’t come to work to be punched in the face.
Case in point, I was in a petrol station shop on Battersea Bridge road the other day when I saw several construction workers stroll in maskless to buy their lunch. There was no way the little guy on the door was going to stop them. At this point, waiting in the socially distanced payment queue, I wanted very badly to wave a magic wand so that I could issue places struggling with this kind of behaviour with massive brick s**thouses for bouncers, preferably with years of combined nightclub experience, to man the entrance and tell anyone who should be wearing a mask and isn’t to “do one”.
Trouble is, I’m pretty bad-tempered without Covid-19, and these flabby post-lockdown rules that bend in whatever direction people choose are doing my head in.
In fact, one of the main reasons why I’m yet to use public transport isn’t just the fear of infection, it’s the genuine worry that I might kick off on a Tube platform at the sight of too many people flouting the guidelines and end up under a train. Alternatively, there’s also the ghastly chance of turning on someone who isn’t wearing a mask and dying of embarrassment when they tell you why they’re exempt.
Given the choice, no one wants to wear a mask. They’re uncomfortable and hot, especially in this weather. Your glasses mist up, your lipstick ends up all over your face and, because you can no longer see people’s lips moving, you suddenly feel even more like mutton than usual. Strange to think that once upon a time you’d see signs in banks saying “no face coverings or motorcycle helmets allowed”.
Let’s face it, the one thing I think we can all agree on is that living in a pandemic is bloody inconvenient. Everything has to be micro-managed and booked in advance.
Last weekend, I managed to get tickets for the Warhol exhibition at Tate Modern. It had been months since I’d been to a gallery, the last visit being the Picasso and Paper at the Royal Academy of Arts for my birthday back in March, and just the sight of the building, so familiar, so imposing, so enduring, made feel emotional. And then it struck me, that while everything looked the same on the surface, there were a lot of ”spot the difference” pandemic changes.
For starters, we were able to park the car just a few yards from the entrance. OK, so it was a Sunday, but six months ago this would have been impossible. Then I realised that, on closer inspection, a number of the restaurants in the immediate vicinity were closed and one or two of them looked abandoned. These included Carluccio’s deli, which apparently fell into administration months ago.
Even the Tate itself has temporarily shut both its main ground-floor cafe and member’s bar, offering a popup outdoor pizza and drinks cafe instead. Great for now, but less fun in November. Coping with a pandemic in the summer is tough enough but unless things improve, it’s going to get tougher. After all, the UK isn’t known for its al-fresco lifestyle, things tend to get a bit damp around here.
Let’s face it, the one thing I think we can all agree on is that living in a pandemic is bloody inconvenient
In fact, a couple of weeks ago we nipped down to Cornwall for a few days and the first hotel we stayed in had shut the restaurant due to Covid-19 working restrictions.
No bother, we thought, we can eat chips on the beach or find a nice gastro pub garden ... and then it rained and we ended up having an emergency picnic of crackers, cheese, coleslaw and crisps, bought from the local Co-op and eaten on the bed in our room, which wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I booked the break.
The whole world is having to make compromises and, on the whole, I think most of us are managing to put a brave face on it, not that anyone can really tell, not indoors anyway, which brings me neatly back to face coverings. One of the pros about wearing a mask is that while people might not be able to see whether you’re smiling, they can’t see if you’re screaming either – now that’s useful!
Jenny Eclair’s book ‘Older and Wider’ is out now
I think most of us are managing to put a brave face on it, not that anyone can really tell, not indoors anyway