Enjoying the Perks of Novel Coronavirus COVID-19
Yesterday, novel coronavirus COVID-19 had a big day in Chicago. It gave Mayor Lori Lightfoot enough reason to cancel the city’s famed St. Patrick’s Day celebrations, which include the dyeing green of the Chicago River and the South Side Irish Parade. Not only will these cancelations help reduce the risk of the virus spreading, in the case of the latter, it will help reduce the number of wealthy white boys in black North Face vests from puking up hot dogs, blood, and bile on a poorer family’s front stoop. News also broke of the first confirmed case at a major downtown business hub, Prudential Plaza. The employee of CA Ventures, a tenant at One Prudential Plaza.
I work in Two Prudential Plaza. These two buildings are connected. They’re also connected to the Aon Center by a small passageway anchored by a Panda Express on the south. Prudential Plaza is also directly connected to the underground Chicago Pedway which connects to more office buildings to the west and three different train lines. Thousands—I can’t find an exact number, but thousands—of people work and/or pass through these places every single day of the work week. The buildings are still open for business, but my office has decided to close until at least next Friday. Everyone is working remotely. These are precautions I fully support.
This virus outbreak, now officially a pandemic is making things weird. The world around us is confusing and ever more empty as people self-quarantine. Door knobs are sinister, a person who coughs or sneezes in any public space is met with more disdain than someone who talks loudly on their cellphone in an elevator. Italy is closed. The NBA is closed. Jesus, even Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson have tested positive for the virus.
COVID-19 is coming for our favorite food, our favorite professional sports league that doesn’t have cheating champion teams, and the one Baby Boomer white man of all America can get behind. Things seem bleak. But after spending forty years in this body and several thousands of dollars on therapy, I am well-equipped to find the silver lining in any situation. I’d tell you that I’m a positive person in moments of crisis, but I feel that telling you I’m positive in this climate would only scare you off.
Regardless, I want you to know that there are perks to this pandemic. You just gotta know how to find ’em.
Get a seat on the Blue Line
On most workdays, you will have to wait four or five Blue Line trains before you can barely squeeze your way into a car if you’re heading toward Forest Park east of Western between 7:501 and 8:47 a.m. But with so many offices closing or strongly encouraging employees to work from home, hoping on at 8:15 is not only simple, but comfortable. The cars have room to spare.
No wait
Reservations aren’t needed. Fewer people are going out, which means you can get the best seat in the house just by showing up. It feels like you’re Ray Liotta in Goodfellas. Even Alinea is taking walk-ins.
It helps you finally stop biting your fingernails
I’ve basically been trying to stop biting my fingernails for thirty years. But no matter how far I got, I’d always, always find myself chewing and nibbling at my fingertips. This pandemic has done wonders in helping me kick this habit. It’s been at least two weeks since I’ve had a bite. Do you have any idea how hard it is to break a habit like this!? I’m not one to ask for praise—that demand is the mark of a toddler or woke white woman—but if I can stay off the keratin for good, I deserve as much praise as someone who overcame opioid addiction.
Biting your nails is gross. I’ve always known that. This habit has been my greatest shame that I’ll admit to in public. Biting your nails and unintentionally eating a deadly virus is even grosser.
With your new nails, you can scrape away gunk from just about any surface
Having fingernails is awesome. Every surface in my home that has been touched by my sticky son and gooey wife is now gunk-free. With just a flick of my thumb and that glob of whatever is loose and into the paper towel to be carried to the trash. And then I’m off to wash my hands because, well, yuck.
You can fart in elevators
Go on. Push it out. Fill the metal box with all of your gutted butt funk. If someone gets on and smells your stench, so what. Stare ’em down. Apologize for the odor. Tell them you were just diagnosed with COVID-19. A new strain. One that affects flatulence. They’ll be so worried that breathing in your ass blast will give them the virus, they’ll forget all about you. And in a few months, when things are close to back to normal and they board the elevator with you again, they won’t remember your face at all—just the smell of your insides as they hotboxed an elevator.
There’s plenty of time for you to do you
Social-distancing. Ah… My Myers-Briggs personality test told me that I am extroverted but like solitude. So, because that’s what it told me, I’m going to get a real kick out of being alone for a bit. Because my company has closed the office for at least the next week-and-a-half, I won’t get to enjoy the empty Blue Line, but I can enjoy social-distancing. I did partake in the practice on my own accord in 2010 and 2011. I consider them two of my best bachelor years.
Enjoy quality and affordable healthcare
Our president said it, and when has he ever lied to us? Insurance companies are waiving co-pays and for treating COVID-19. And it sounds like the Feds are ready to help out if people need money to pay for treatment. So, the great healthcare that has been so impossible to give to the American people is, apparently, now, without fanfare or what could possibly be considered difficulty, available to everyone.
Traffic is light
To and from work. To and from the grocery store. To and from UPS to return something to Amazon. Traffic moves like it’s 6 a.m. on a Sunday. And with the NBA all shuttered up, there’ll be no traffic to battle on game nights. We can only hope that Major League Baseball follows suit. It’ll also give teams more time to come up with new hand signals since the Astros are thieving bastards.
So, there you go. Have fun during these last few days on earth. Remember, even though we’re all going to die, it’s your fault for not washing your hands that one time.
