"No! No!" I heard someone scream in the sun-stricken street. "This filthy Italian! He shook my hand."
I turned toward where the familiar sound was coming from. Across from a neighborhood restaurant that has become over the past several months a successful takeaway stand of wine and Mediterranean dishes, my good friend was standing there, in shock.
Follow Israel Hayom on Facebook and Twitter
In one hand he had a plastic cup with a margarita, and with the other hand he was pointing toward a group of Europeans who were now moving away from us, cycling calmly, as if leaving behind a viral crime scene with a shock victim.
We gathered around our friend and we scrubbed his shaking palm with loads of sanitizer as he retold the horror story. It turned out that while we introduced ourselves to the group that had a common acquaintance with the variety of different gestures that had become the new normal in recent months – ironic bows, elbow touching, and even an embarrassing 'Namaste – the criminal Italian just approached our friend and with a cry of Buongiorno just placed his palm across our friend's face, until the friend succumbed and shook his outstretched hand.
We huddled to consult and then decided, as if we were a flock of parrots, to reassure our horrified friend with the new data: The infection rate in London has been dropping sharply; the curve has plateaued; shaking hands won't lead you to your death knell.
After assessing the situation we continued toward London fields to celebrate the easing of the lockdown with picnics, sunbathing, and hiking, which used to be luxury but are now they are back to being part of what's permitted.
As I enter the park, the incident is all but forgotten. It is hard to admit that after two months of lockdown, some 36,000 people dead and millions unemployed, London's streets are packed.
At least from a privileged point of view.
In this temporary and bizarre universe that has been created between the easing and the paralyzed workplaces, the buses are running again in high frequencies, without charge.
The magic words "click and collect" has breathed a new life to many restaurants. High-end deliveries of Yakitori, hamburgers with truffle aioli, dim sum and rotisserie chicken are now flooding the streets as if they were owls from a Harry Potter book.
Because gyms and brunches are still out, the parks have become the latest exercise venue on weekends, as well as the preferred choice for dating and other meetings (this includes some porn..).
Well-toned women with sports bras practice their kickboxing skills and ripped half-naked men hang upside down from the rings that have been latched onto the branches.
A long queue of happy drinkers gather near the newly opened pubs in the parks, selling fish and chips alongside alcoholic beverages.
Only upon sunset can one hear the echoes of the pandemic once again. Without clubs and bars, the streets empty out, and rather than have party-goers there are drug addicts and homeless. They sit near the ATMs and wait by the supermarkets. They beg for a handout, but their outstretched hand is left empty.
The residents of London are holed up in their homes, avoiding all contact. That's not their fault, of course, that is the order of the day.
Subscribe to Israel Hayom's daily newsletter and never miss our top stories!
