Hey! That’s write, posts from Kaisson on consecutive days! How novel. I survived my nightshift, and after a rudely short sleep am staggering around the house waiting to feel human again. I just wanted to reach out to my brethren to acknowlede that we are gonna be okay. The introvert’s coronavirus survival guide could be the slimmest e-volume on your i-shelf because it only really contains one sentence: business as usual. But that is selling the situation short, I believe, and requires amplification.
Why? Because hic sunt dracones, is why. The mouthbreathers are most dangerous when confined within their vast and inhospitable domiciles. It has always made me ROFL a bit that so-called ‘sociable people’ are the one’s who acually can’t spend a whole day with their ‘loved ones’ without wanting to drive a fork into a spouse’s eyesocket. I’ve wanted to fork a lot of people, don’t get me wrong, but those I love are safe. It’s the randoms who can get forked; unfortunately, 2019-nCoV means it may be us introverts who attract a forking before long. So, some advice from a person paid to know how to avoid getting forked by an extrovert.
Survival tip #1. Quietly kill all the randoms who know you’ve been hoarding lentils and rice since like forever. If you’re a card-carrying member of the Introvert’s Club then this should be a short list. They will eventually squeal, or worse, come begging at your door when they’re down to their last slab of dead animal and/or tampon. If you don’t want to (ugh) go outside and do the killin’, wait until they do come begging then invite them inside: “Sure! Come in, uh, Bob was it? I have plenty to spare!” Soylent green their asses in the bathtub. Sprinkle their finally-silent remains on the vege garden (I know you’ve got one too!) and watch the kale grow! Luckily, though, public knowledge that you’re The Bean Keeper, or a #lentil_lord, will probably be enough to keep the mob from your door.
Survival tip #2. You won’t need a shotgun (crazy Americans) to keep yourself safe. Just practice your raggedy cough. A few well-spaced sneezes will part the human tide surging down the sanitary products aisle like the biblical equivalent did in that ye olde book which I never quite read because it was so fucking dull and (tbh) quite badly written. Back OP though, self-defence for us introverts follows the punchline of that nasty joke about accountants: “What does an accountant use for birth-control? Her personality!” Haw-haw, but not true, because us intros are just as conjugal as extros, only our lives just aren’t a random slutfest is all. The point I keep losing is that the uninviting expression you perfected in you teens (the “moai look”) PLUS a raggedy cough should see you through.
Survival tip #3. Supermarkets are war-zones. Big blokes shoving elderly shoppers aside to snatch the last remaining toilet roll. Might becomes right, in extremis, even if it’s wrong. So be prepared to combat brawn with brains. The fact you prefer Paul Newman’s Own Marinara Sauce, for example, doesn’t mean it’s worth going toe-to-toe with some hulking fucktard over it. Buy the no-brand sauce. Walking down the pasta aisle, it was like: empty, empty, empty, hey! Risoni! empty empty empty. Does the herd not know that risoni = pasta, the same as coccioletti (the shells) = pasta? God how I laugh. While the dullards stand in confusion before the emptied meat counter, casually stroll ’round the back and have your fill of fresh cauliflower, quino, mushrooms and all those other yummy things these idiots don’t ‘like’. Plus, don’t forget, we have always shopped online.
Survival tip #4. Help others. The quiet nod or subtle gesture which we, subtle masters of the proxemic arts, accurately interpret as evidence of other introverts in our midst means that we can quietly support each other. A true introvert will never come to your door, they will quietly perish at home; but you might see a skinny cat staring forlornly across at you from the neighbour’s balcony. Time to break a cardinal rule and leave some food (don’t forget poor puss!) on their doorstep, knock, then retreat to safety. Good deed done. Plus, you know they are good for it, because an introvert never forgets a kindness and always repays a debt. You can spare that square.
Survival tip# 5. BAU.
That’s it for now. Happy hunting. Let me know how you’re getting along. Or not.