Somewhat regrettably, it started with the tweet below. Or rather, a screenshot of the tweet posted on Facebook, as is the route for most things that go viral. It read, “feel like everyone needs a ‘running errands’ friend. that person you feel most comfortable with grabbing coffee for two hours and then hopping from tj maxx, to target, hobby lobby –“ and the list went on. As far as #relatable sentiments go, it’s a fairly standard one.
Other posts in this genre include pictures of fast food in someone’s car, of Netflix on a laptop screen in bed, often with captions that express enthusiasm with these low-key social settings, as opposed to a fancy dinner or overly-orchestrated hang out. (These, in turn, are derided with the phrase “Y’all call this a date?”) What I find in common with these posts, including the TJ Maxx tweet, is that they invite the inclusion of other people – friends, romantic partners or anything in between – into spaces that are usually private domain. It is not new to suggest that seeking company in otherwise personal moments or settings is a way of letting someone in, of signaling that we feel comfortable enough with them that we want them around even when there is no occasion for it – it is this impulse that drives much of posts like these.
Yet the difference here, the part that makes me hesitant of giving into this impulse entirely, is that these posts betray a desire on all our parts to skip to that part, or at the very least fast forward. We want first dates to feel like home, and we want new friendships to be the best versions of themselves that they can be, to immediately slip into spending time with someone whilst still at home in an old t-shirt.
This doesn’t necessarily sound like a problem on its face, and it’s a desire that I harbor too. Why wouldn’t anyone want to skip the awkwardness of small talk, the dancing around schedules and waiting for texts back, the worry about what to wear and how you look (and oh god do you have pit stains)? Numerous bios on dating apps suggest skipping the small talk in favor of having “deep conversations”. Wanting something deeper is always the sell, perhaps so that this depth may inform the mundane later on and make it meaningful. If we cut down the time it takes to ask someone about their greatest trauma, maybe it will be easier to let our guards down and simply be with one another with more ease. I used to think this was ideal, a way to cut through the fat of relationships, when it really misses something necessary.
I have such an infatuation with the seemingly inconsequential actions that intimacy makes special, like grocery shopping, helping someone move, or being offered an extra toothbrush, that I sometimes miss out on the work leading up to that intimacy, in the hopes that those actions in themselves will create the connection that I actually want. As it turns out, a former partner did just have an extra toothbrush that night, and our second night together did not inspire a symbolic move towards the domestic. I crave going to places with people that they would normally go on their own, because I think it means that we are so comfortable together that spending time with each other does not have to have an event attached to it.
Yet the truth is that I have made these non-occasions into events, hoping that they would reverse-induce an intimacy that will bond us closer. The opposite can happen, though. An evening with a date at the grocery store near his apartment was not as sweet and casual as I wanted it to be, but instead an exercise in my own anxiety as I realized that I was not ready to be that open about myself and my eating habits yet. That’s the thing with these places and actions we call errands – they seem innocuous, but they reveal things about ourselves that don’t necessarily have to be scandalous secrets for them to be private, and for it to mean something to have someone else witness them. That’s where the intimacy even comes from, and that’s why it is such a blow when it does not got the way that we think it should.
Where does this then leave me, Glorifier of the Errand, struggling alone with my large bags of produce and too much yogurt? I think I am left to try and find love for, or at least value in, the so-called artifice of relationships. The lead-up to a close connection with anyone doesn’t always have to be characterized as a series of superficial interactions, because they often aren’t. Some of them can be, and even with that awareness, they’re worth experiencing. Valuing the uncertainty that these interactions bring can be a reminder that relationships are never as linear as we’d like them to be, nor do they plateau at the moments that we expect.
What I suppose I’m trying to say in all of this is that what feels fake can be building something real in secret. Craving the moments in which we do not have to perform, in an age where companies have given us financial incentives to do so at all times – think personal branding – is natural, and often grounding. Yet there is something to be said for the nervousness that the potential for new connections, or new kinds of connection, can bring. It can be intoxicating, for one thing, and it can compel us to prioritize being better for each other, which feels a little less closer to doomsday than being better for only our jobs or social media accounts.
Things on my mind this week
If you’re Indian and residing in Singapore, this letter to the High Commissioner of India in Singapore opposing the recently passed Citizenship Amendment Act needs signatures.
MUNA’s Saves the World is a truly explosive album that I’m shocked I didn’t listen to earlier – extremely queer energy, incredibly catchy, lots of synths! My favorites are Stayaway, Hands Off, and Taken. Honorable mention to It's Gonna Be Okay, Baby bc the first two lines are “You're gonna move to New York/ And experiment with communism”.
This poem. It’s short, beautiful, and feels unsolvable.