Okay, it happened.
I've been in quarantine in my New York City apartment with my wife and five children for, what now? A hundred years! All right, it's only been seven weeks, but it finally happened.
I miss other people.
And I'm not talking about my friends. Obviously, I miss my friends. Not all of them.
And I'm not talking about people who come to my shows or follow me on social media. Obviously those are good people with excellent taste. No, I'm talking about the other people, the strangers. The people I don't know who I haven't seen for seven weeks.
You see, living in an urban setting like I do, other people or strangers are an integral part of my life.
I can't walk down the street, ride the subway, or pick up my kid from school without interacting with strangers.
Pre-pandemic I wasn't a fan of strangers. Strangers seemed to be in the way. Strangers seemed to be a burden. Now, I miss them.
You know that person at the airport who decides to only start looking for their ID when they are standing in front of the TSA guy? I miss that person.
I miss the people I would see in my neighborhood once a month: The lady with the enormous dog that certainly wouldn't fit in any New York City apartment; I miss the guy in the fashionable green overalls who, whenever he would see me and my oversized family would sneer at us. Maybe he wasn't sneering. Maybe that's just his expression.
My point is, I miss community. Humans, we are social animals.
I don't need a hug. I need a sneer! I look forward to the day one of you can sneer at me.
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Story produced by Sara Kugel. Editor: George Pozderec. Illustrations by Mitch Butler.