Quarantine, Acne, and My Undying Hatred for the Red Sox

I thought quarantine wouldn’t be too bad for me because I’m still working, but I gravely misjudged my need to go out. I don’t merely mean social interaction because, personally, I could do without the interaction part. I have no desire to interact. I do need to observe.

The last time I talked to a human, who wasn’t above 80-years-old, was at the supermarket a few days ago. It was early in the morning, 7 a.m. I had my Yankee hat on and I was passing a guy with a Red Sox hat. He nods to me and says, “I hate your hat.” I nodded back and said, “I hate your hat too.” To be honest, I’m good for a few weeks now. Because for me, that was a really good interaction. It was simple. We both expressed our undying hatred towards each other, and that was that. It’s good to express your feelings.

What you don’t want to do is just blatantly piss of a New Yorker by just saying something to say something. Don’t be fooled people. Southern people aren’t any nicer than North-easterners. The problem with the south, is that people talk shit but disguise it as being nice or empathetic. They will just make a small comment to get under your skin just enough that when you react, it will look like your in the wrong.

For example, again I was at the supermarket, which is becoming my only place to find content, and I was wearing my Yankee hat. This man and his wife are walking in my direction. It was Easter, and I could tell they were heading to Church to celebrate the return of J.C. after they finished picking up the ham and whatever else people eat on Easter. Not that there is anything wrong with that, I just want you to understand the type of people were looking at. They had their pastel colors and khaki pants on.

I’m minding my own business and this guy out of nowhere says, “looks like your baseball season is cancelled.” He just caught me so off guard that I just spoke to him like he was one of my friends and said, “well, I hope the FUCK not!” It just sort of came out, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was trying to be an asshole, yes, but that’s not mean. He said something that was for one, blatantly untrue, and two, fucking annoying. I wanted to say, “looks like Jesus will have to wait another 12 months to rise from the dead then too, no?” But no, I didn’t because I’m not mean, I’m just an asshole. Needless to say, the swearing kind of shocked them. His wife’s mouth just dropped and they quickly rolled their cart away from me.

But this is why I don’t need to interact. I have yet to learn to, “think before I speak.” It’s not really on the agenda either. I like just being out and observing social interactions. It’s the main reason I go to the bar. I go to the beer/wine distributor on Fridays and spend $50 just to feel alive again. I don’t even drink what I’m buying. I have like 7 bottles of wine in my house. I’m not the kind of guy that buys a bottle of wine and doesn’t drink it. I just have to go this place on Fridays, because otherwise, I’ll go home and just sit in my apartment and wait until Monday morning to go back to work. It’s a buffer.

Saturdays and Sundays, I go for a 30 minute run and do some push ups and then just stare at the clock waiting for it to say 5 o’clock. Because that’s when everyone else starts to catch up to how drunk I am.

Everyone wants to zoom or videochat now, too. I’ve been living away from my friends for 4 years now, besides the few people I now am friends with in Raleigh. No one has ever wanted to videochat with me. Now, all of a sudden, everyone wants to videochat. I hate being on videochat. The angle from my computer, always makes me look like a pedophile on chat roulette, like I’m about to whip it out or something. I don’t have a good zoom face. I don’t really have a good face.

Last weeks interactions at work mostly consisted of people pointing to the giant red bump on my forehead asking me if I got stung by something. No, just a giant forehead cyst. I’m 27 years old, I am bald, I’m growing back and back-of-the-arm hair at an alarming rate, and I continue to get acne. Life comes at you fast. My wife tells me in my late 20’s but I don’t think you’re in your late 20s until 29 and 30.

I don’t spend any more time with my wife than I used too. It’s just “different” time now, because we’re not able to mock others while we sit by ourselves at a bar. We just sit in the apartment mocking each other. Things I’ve found out about her: 1. She doesn’t agree we should name our first daughter Apollonia; 2. She hates playing “would you rather.”; 3. She is much better than me at Mario Kart and it’s not even close. Granted I’m usually drinking and driving when we play Mario Kart. Things are looking bleak.

Things are changing quickly. One state is opening, others are continuing lock down. Luckily, Trump tweeted the other day to open Virginia, which is where I rented a house on the beach for a summer vacation, so I should be good to go for that. I am in total agreement with the lock down, until July 24th, when I’m scheduled to be on the beach for a week with a bottle of tequila and two dozen hot dogs. Stay inside, there are plenty of things you can do to play with yourself.

Published by Your Cousin Vinny

I'm just a guy, who really is trying to figure out what the move is.

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