I Miss Covid Sometimes

Let me explain.

I believe one of the best things to come out of Covid was social distancing.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people invade my personal space. And let me tell you, there is no shortage of situations where personal space is invaded completely unnecessarily.

One of the worst experiences I have ever had with this happened years ago, long before Covid. It's a brutal story and, to be honest, people have nearly peed their pants laughing when they've heard it, so consider yourself warned.

I had recently given birth to my first child and, for my birthday several months later, my husband bought me a day pass to Spa Utopia.

I had never been to a fancy spa before, so I was very excited. I arrived early, got the tour, and was looking forward to my massage and some relaxing time in the sauna beforehand.

I followed the rules. You're supposed to wrap a towel around yourself and sit in the sauna for a few minutes before your treatment.

I was the only person in the sauna when I walked in, so I chose the top bench, right in the middle.

Now, to be clear, there was tons of room. I suspect you could easily fit ten or twelve people in that sauna.

So imagine my surprise when another woman walked in, climbed up to the top bench, and sat directly beside me.

And I don't mean two feet away. I mean almost touching.

I could not believe what was happening. I wanted to move, but instantly felt that somehow I would be the rude one if I got up and relocated. Imagine that.

I had only just arrived, so I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I couldn't hear her breathing.

I finally called it quits when the heat and sweating apparently got the best of her and she started horking and snorting in the sauna.

I got up and left.

To this day, that may still be the worst invasion of my personal space I have ever experienced.

Recently, however, I have had several close contenders.

Over the past few weeks, there have been multiple incidents, but I resisted writing about them. I assumed I was simply in a perimenopausal state and that my level of irritation was perhaps not entirely warranted.

But today I decided enough is enough.

Interestingly, researchers suggest that people often crowd others unintentionally. Some studies indicate that humans are naturally drawn to social proximity because being near others historically provided safety and connection. Others suggest that people simply become "attention blind" in familiar environments like parking lots or grocery stores and fail to notice they're invading someone's personal bubble.

Whatever the reason, I remain unconvinced.

Parking

Now, I get it. I'm not an idiot. If it's Christmas, pouring rain, and the parking lot is packed, then yes, we all squeeze in where we can.

But on a Monday in June, at 10:00 a.m., with beautiful weather and an almost empty parking lot? No.

I specifically did not park in the closest stall to the store. Instead, I parked three empty stalls away from the nearest vehicle.

There were eight empty spots directly across from me, three closer to the store, and at least fifteen more on the other side.

So imagine my delight when I came out of the store and discovered that someone driving a massive pickup truck which, frankly, looked like it needed two stalls, had parked directly beside me.

A terrible parking job, I might add.

Not even straight.

I had to physically wiggle myself into my car.

I immediately wanted to leave a note.

Don't be an asshole.

What if I was elderly and had mobility issues?

What if I was a parent trying to load young children into the car?

And to be clear, I had difficulty getting in.

For the love of God, you had dozens of empty spots to choose from—none of them beside another vehicle.

After I calmed down, I headed to my second errand.

Smarter this time, I chose a spot between two small cars with plenty of room on either side.

This lot was busier, but there were still lots of available spaces.

When I returned, the small car beside me had left and been replaced by a full-sized family van.

This person had somehow managed to park even closer than the truck.

And on an angle.

I could barely get into my vehicle without my door touching theirs, so I'm fairly certain that if they had passengers, my car probably took a hit on their way out.

Once again, I considered leaving a note.

Instead, I backed out and headed to my final stop.

This time, no issues. Everyone appeared to understand the unspoken rules of parking etiquette.

Unfortunately, it was this stop that reignited my longing for Covid.

As I stood in line at the grocery store, the person behind me felt compelled to stand directly at the end of the till while I was still unloading groceries.

I was not going to move any faster.

The cashier was still serving the person ahead of me, and the conveyor belt only travels at one speed.

I looked back once.

This person looked right at me with absolutely no awareness of how unnecessarily close they were standing.

Or perhaps they knew and simply didn't care.

By the time I finished paying, I decided to abandon my final errand altogether and retreat to the sanctuary of my home.

There, if my personal space is violated, it is by one of my dogs, Piper or Oliver, my children, or my husband.

See, those are the people who have earned that right.

Everyone else?

Please just walk a little farther to the store.

Choose the seat a few rows down in the theatre.

Stand back a few feet in line.

I promise you'll still get where you need to go.

If I choose to attend a concert, board a plane, or go to a sporting event, I understand that strangers and I will be packed together. I accept that.

But for the love of God, if you have the option to give someone a little space—

Do it.