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HANGING OUT WITH 
THE RIGHT PEOPLE

   With the surge of coronavirus cases in California, everyone's anxiety level has probably increased a bit, including mine. Consequently, I decided it was an opportune time to increase my safety standards.
   "I've given it a lot of thought," I said to my wife the other morning. "And I've decided I would like you to join the social bubble I'm forming."
   "That's nice," she replied, without even a glance in my direction. "Considering we live in the same house, I think that's a good choice."
   She obviously didn't appreciate the invitation as much as I thought she would. The house is plenty big enough to maintain social distancing if she didn't make the cut for my bubble. I pointed that out and it didn't go over well.
   Social bubbles, or pandemic pods, are all the rage these days, even though I haven't actually seen any. Counties have specified that a social bubble is a group of 12 people or less who have agreed to limit their in-person social activities to only each other. Individuals can only belong to one social bubble at a time.
   "Who else should I invite into our social bubble?" I asked after I explained the qualifications to my wife.
   "First of all, I haven't accepted your invitation," she said. "And secondly, who made you the leader?"
   "Somebody's got to take charge. I'm starting with our oldest daughter."
   I called her on the phone. "Good news," I chirped. "I'm inviting you to join my social bubble. And you can include your husband and our little grandchildren." Then I added the closing kicker. "And the grandchildren, per county definition, don't even count for the 12 person limit!"
   "I'm honored," she replied in a tone that reminded me of her mother. "What do we have to do?"
   "You just can't socialize or hang out with anyone outside our exclusive social bubble. Kiss all of your friends and your husband's family goodbye. Don't actually kiss them, though. If you did, you'd be out of my social bubble."
   She wasn't impressed so far. "So what you're saying is I can only hang out with you and the rest of your social bubble, many of whom I may have nothing in common with?"
   "I haven't decided on the other invites yet. I'll certainly consider your requests, but there's a long list of people who would be thrilled to be included in such a prestigious bubble."
   Apparently, my oldest daughter wasn't one of them. She thanked me for the invite, but respectfully declined, letting me know that social bubbles might be difficult to manage.
   "I'll miss her," I said to my wife after I got off the phone. "Maybe she'll come around after she sees how much fun my social bubble is going to be. I'm sure we'll have an opening down the line after we catch a cheater or two, and after her two weeks of quarantine, I might give her another chance."
   My wife had listened to the whole conversation and was eager to add to it. "By the way, I'm out."
   "You can't be out!" I cried. "You don't even know who's in yet."
   "I'll tell you what I do know. I know you'd never find 12 people who would agree to never see anyone except you."
   That was a little harsh. The only solution was to prove her wrong. I decided to call one of my best friends, who always came through for me.
   Sure enough, he readily agreed to be part of my social bubble. But he said his wife, who had numerous friends, would never agree. "Is that a problem?" he asked.
   "Not at all," I replied. "As long as you don't have any close contact with her. Is a divorce out of the question?"
   Surprisingly, he opted out, too. So I tried a few other friends, and met with the same response. For some reason, no one wanted to forego seeing their friends and family just so they could hang out with me.
   "My social bubble isn't going well," I said to my wife. "I pretty much knew I was in trouble when you said you didn't want to be a part of it."
   "It was a noble idea," she replied in a soothing tone, which was unusual. "The counties have their heart in the right place, but it's just not feasible for most people."
   "So what am I supposed to do?" I asked. "With my social bubble burst before it started, I'm vulnerable."
   She patted me on the shoulder. "Wear a mask, big boy. Wear a mask."
 

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