A return to normalcy: I went to a concert recently and that was exciting

Once upon a time on a 3rd-place planet in a race to the closest star, there were primates. The mostly pinkish primates dominated the other species on the planet because of their advanced ability to use tools. They used the tools to poke tigers and mine potatoes. Eventually their use of tools became so legendary that they could traffic the tiger and manufacture the potato. Aside from the occasional border dispute, life was good and the potatoes were plenty. 

But then one day, an alien warship crash landed in the land of over-poked tigers. Out of the wreckage lurked a monster with stingers, scales, and blades - oh my. The alien was going to wipe out the primates or get a participation trophy for trying. 

The alien hid in some bushes (or a batcave depending on your source) waiting for its first victim. Luckily the planet was a bit overpopulated and a primate walked by a short time after. The alien leaped out of the bush (or batcave), ambushing the unaware primate. 

Caught in a full-on death-roll, the stings inserted the venom and the slashes diced off the primate’s nose. But the primate was larger so it was able to break free, kicking the alien to the curb. The primate dusted himself, giving the alien no attention, and continued with his day.

The alien, a bit perplexed, called out, “Your nose was just chopped off… Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

The primate, chins in the air, said, “Do you even have opposable thumbs? Get on my level! We survived the rats. You can’t even.”

With that, the primate stomped the alien to death, then high fived his buddy. The primate had things to do and places to be, so he got on with his life. 

About two weeks later, the primate died. At around the same time, his buddy’s nose dropped off and he began battling regular coughing fits. The other primates might have noticed the coughing as a symptom, but fire sticks had become common and so had coughing. The fallen-off nose was only noticed as a symptom sometime later. Since the invention of the magic rectangles, it had become customary to avoid eye contact with addressing another primate; the practice had led to ever worsening posture along with ever worsening facial awareness. 

At patient zero’s funeral, friends and family gave the buddy condolence high fives as was customary on the planet. The funeral went by quickly as the primates had busy lifes - no use sulking about the past when you can gaze toward the future. And then, some while later, all the attendees of the funeral died.

The janitor in charge of collecting the dead noticed that all the primates had lost their noses, so he told a doctor. The doctor conducted some tests and found venom in the bloodstream. Upon further tests he confirmed the venom was transferable by high fives. Alarmed, the doctor called the leaders and warned them of a highly contagious, dangerous alien venom.

Over the course of several months (which would be captured well in an advertising montage, #capitalism) 1% of the primates died. The venom, traveling faster than a college kid on break, broke into every major city. Panic followed at an equal pace. The primates in charge, the ones with the biggest tools, took action. High fives were outlawed. Borders were closed. The water supply was replaced with hand sanitizer. Eventually, everyone was told to go inside and wait it out. Wait it out. Wait it out…

***

Meanwhile in the city where fish fly, the sky cries, and coffee reigns supreme, a particular primate was lonely. He was separated hundreds of miles from his home tribe and his buddies were waiting it out themselves. Inside his dwelling things were quiet, the kind of quiet where you turn on electronic noises to drown out the quiet, but at the end of the day it’s an insignificant dissonance and you’re just sad and tired of waiting it out.

Other primates distracted themselves with bottles or potions - all safe from the nasty venom which had been given a cool nameplate and celebrity shades - but they were slowly dying in another sense, because what primates need is other primates.

Across the country, empty streets yearned for the return of motivated primates while the next generation struggled to log into their new learning reality. The new technologies for collaboration proved too difficult so might as well just watch tv instead. The planet was taking a mulligan on the year, maybe two. The passing of the torch could wait.

But - damn it - no! The primates hadn’t lost sight. They were stubborn, resilient, and domineering. They had tools for crying out loud. If the primates were known for anything, it was their ability to use tools to terraform their environment to maximize leisure. Dying wasn’t pleasant. 

The primates declared war on the virus. They wrangled their most brilliant for-profit minds and began work on the antidote. Scientists tired day and night. The fate of the primates held in the balance. If they failed the rich would probably have to evacuate to the nearest planet, but unfortunately, that technology hadn’t been mass produced yet. The stakes were high.

Faster than you can say clinical trials, the scientists came forth with the solution. Hallelujah! On top of that, the scientists created two additional solutions because having options is good. Starting with the richest counties, the vaccine was rolled out across the globe. 

Primates became (relatively) immune to the nasty venom. They kicked away the food delivery boxes and climbed out of their overpriced homes. A return to normalcy, life started to trend back to what had used to be. Albeit, things looked different: High fives became less common, primates kept their distance, and social skills dropped to an all-time low. Nevertheless, the activities which had given life meaning resumed and that felt good. The clouds clear and the sun shone through - good weather was here to stay.

For the particular primate, he found someone to wait it out with during the world shutdown. She was kind, calm, graceful, and made life fun despite everything being closed. The particular primate was no longer lonely; he’d found the perfect companion and was eternally thankful and perpetually happy.

***

Anyways, long story short, I went to a concert recently and that was really fun. I’m happy things are opening back up.

The end.