Eight months later and very little has changed since the ‘rona busted into our lives like an unemployed ex. (Did we mention we’re back with our unemployed ex?) Well, actually, things might be gearing up to be worse than they were before, and though we’ve become pretty used to the whole not-leaving-the-house thing, it’s getting old. And sad. Old, sad, and downright depressing. Never have we related to something more than when Blink-182’s Tom DeLonge wails “Where are you?” on the band’s 2003 emo ballad “Miss You” because, well, dammit, we miss life B.C. — life before coronavirus. Simple pleasures and grievances all make our list of things we miss as we wait out this pandemic. Hopefully, all of these things and more will return to our agendas once, well, you know. For now, though, let’s get nostalgic about the future, shall we?

Experience the many emotions of being a Detroit sports fan Each year, we do it to ourselves. We slap on face paint, a foam finger, and our favorite jersey, and we go all in on Detroit sports — even after we’ve suffered years of heartbreak, because, well, our teams’ track records lately haven’t done much to inspire hope. But we miss having to choose between one losing team or three because, well, we miss being able to make any choice at all, really. But while we’re discussing choices, you could choose to rally behind Detroit’s only pro soccer team, Detroit City Football Club. They are champions, after all. Dion Degennaro
Sharing a joint with strangers We’ve all done it — walked into a dispensary wearing a top hat and monocle and when asked by the budtender what we’d like to see, we just start pointing to jar after jar, smelling each one pretending like we can smell the pine notes or hints of dank. Sure, the marijuana industry has been deemed “essential” since March, and while they are open, getting up close and personal with bud is not an option. This goes for weed events like Cannabis Cup and Hash Bash, too, where we look forward to getting high with our fellow potheads instead of getting high at home on a Wednesday at 2 p.m. because we’re basically unemployed. Plus, wat we wouldn’t do to pass the dutchie… Photo by Jordan Buzzy
Worrying about rising rents, rather than worrying about not being able to pay rent This ain’t just about gentrification anymore. This is about survival. Tough times like these mean not worrying so much about whether the landlord of your shabby chic, er, totally run-down apartment building near New Center is going to raise your rent because a new high-end leather goods store just moved into the neighborhood, but if you’re going to be able to make rent at all. Photo by Steve Neavling
Looking at cars we can’t afford at the North American International Auto Show The Motor City’s biggest and most insane celebration of things with four wheels was, well, canceled this year, which was a shame because it was to be the first time it was held in the warmer months and not the frigid depths of winter. Though we may roll our eyes at the lavish opening night preview gala or cars that drive themselves, we can’t wait to put on something sparkly and pick out our next ride. Photo courtesy of NAIAS
Be mistaken for a furry at Detroit’s anime convention, Youmacon One of the things we missed out on this year was our ability to become someone else — Princess Peach, Sailor Moon, Thor. That’s because Youmacon, Detroit’s annual Japanese anime and pop culture convention, was called off, which means we couldn’t visit the Maid Cafe or the 24-hour-gaming room. Photo by Megan Matelonek
Going to the mall — you heard us Two words: Orange. Julius. That’s right. We may have spent most of our adult life dreading trips to the mall and all of their outdated glory. But nothing sounds more delightful in this moment than walking past a Cinnabon, purchasing and eating a Cinnabon, and wiping our hands on our old, totally shitty jeans, only to wander into the nearest American Eagle to grab a new pair. And while we’re at it, we might as well swing by Spencer’s Gifts to grab a lava lamp dildo and a trucker hat that says “My other hat is a condom.” If we’re feeling adventurous, maybe a stop through F.Y.E. to grab a Good Charlotte CD. Llze_Lucero/Shutterstock
Running the red devil out of town while also defending his right to run rampant through Detroit as part of Detroit’s kooky annual tradition Marche du Nain Rouge Concerts aren’t the only thing that hit the chopping block when COVID-19 came to town. Though we do miss spending way too much money on beer and ticket processing fees, what we miss most of all is celebrating Detroit’s weird and wonderful traditions: namely Marche du Nain Rouge. Don’t worry, Detroit. We will run that little red MF’er out of the city once and for all, you know, next year. (Or support him, if that’s your thing.) Photo by Steven Pham
Having a reason to get dressed up Remember dressing up? Neither do we, which is why we can’t help but get wistful for an evening at Willis Show Bar, where everything is retro and decadent and everyone dresses the part. We miss grabbing a frosty Old Fashioned and taking in some soulful sounds from a live jazz band, or some seductive burlesque. Never have we wanted time travel to be a real thing more than we do now. Photo via Willis Show Bar/Facebook
Eating grilled chicken with our hands (and not worrying about where they’ve been) One of the greatest culinary pleasures in Southwest Detroit, and there are many, is ordering a half of a grilled chicken from Taqueria El Ray. Something we’ve taken for granted, however, is tearing that bird apart with our nasty little fingers and giving zero fucks about washing them. Ah, yes. The simple pleasures. Photo by Tom Perkins
Laugh ourselves sick at a local comedy show other than at the dark comedy of our everyday life because it’s getting really old, you know, we could use a laugh because they say laughter is the best medicine and since we don’t have a vaccine yet maybe a comedy show would do the trick, at least when it comes to this weird elbow rash… Detroit might have a reputation for being rather rough and tumble, but underneath that “hey, get away from my car!” exterior is a whole mess of funny bones. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention suggests using low voices and not projecting, yelling, or laughing loudly as to prevent the spread of COVID-19, which means we are well overdue for a laugh fest at the expense of one of the area’s comedic professionals. From improv, stand-up, live podcasts, and even bad improv, we want it all. Photo courtesy of Planet Ant
Picking out our most outrageous festival looks so we can rave til dawn Some people spend months picking out the outfit for the most important day of their lives. And no, we’re not talking about a wedding, you sap. We’re talking about festival season. Whether you’re a Movement raver who opts for a neon, see-through cowgirl geisha vibe or a Mo Pop Festival IG thot lewk (don’t forget your flower crowns, haux!), we miss having an excuse to assemble the perfect fit that would have Tim Gunn’s head spinning. Photo by Dontae Rockymore>
Working remotely someplace other than your kitchen table Before quarantine life, working from home was the goddamn American dream. Roll out of bed, grab some coffee, put on the entire first season of The Office on in the background, and log on. But after months of this shit — the sweat pants, the endless Zoom conference calls, and struggling to leave our bed because holy shit this is depressing — we miss being able to work remotely from somewhere other than home, you know, with our kids and significant others lurking about. (Get us out of here!) Photo by Nicole Rupersburg/Courtesy of DIA
Cramming into Dally in the Alley for an afternoon of day drinking Detroit’s largest annual community festival, Dally in the Alley, was of course canceled this year due to the coronavirus, and we cannot wait to day-drink while elbow-to-elbow with hipsters, young and old, to support local artists, makers, bands, and beer. Did we mention beer? Anyway, Dally in the Alley, which is a one-day, 12-hour festival made possible by a team of community volunteers, is on our wish list for when COVID-19 packs its bags. Photo by Jonathan Weier
Driving in I-75 construction and complaining about it to our co-workers at work Misery loves company which, thanks to Michigan’s never-ending construction efforts, gives us a lot to be miserable about, specifically that on major highway I-75. Not only do we sort of miss getting stuck in traffic, because the more time in traffic means the less time enduring Karen from HR’s very intimate medical complaints, but we miss being able to rant about our one binding commonality. (Other that the pandemic.) Photo via Screen grab/YouTube
Freezing our asses off at Belle Isle beach Michigan is forced to suffer through, basically, a half year of bullshit weather (why do we live here again?), which makes us downright ornery and beach thirsty. This might explain why we get our asses to Belle Isle beach the minute we see the sun and justify ditching our Carhartt winter wardrobe. Photo by Hannah Ervin/Detroit Stock City>
Dancing until morning, covered in strangers’ sweat, and then maybe making out with a stranger without worrying about protection (face masks) If you’re like us, you’re losing track of which day of the week it is. Weekends blend into Monday and Fridays mean nothing. What we miss is losing track of time — and maybe our keys — at clubs like Marble Bar, where dancing the night, er, morning, away is the 9-5 escape we so desire. Photo via Marble Bar/Facebook
Caffeinate for as long as we damn well please Pick your poison: Ashe, Astro, Avalon, New Way, Populace, New Order, Great Lakes Roasting Company. We all have a favorite bean-watering hole and even more than the coffee itself, and we love sitting and sipping for as long as we damn well please. Though a lot of these spots are open or offering curbside service, the days of outstaying our welcome are behind — and, hopefully, ahead — of us. Photo via Great Lakes Roasting Company/Facebook
Play Independence Day pinball instead of, you know, waiting for the world to end IRL Greasy pizza hands? Check. A roll of dirty-ass quarters? Check. The desire to destroy your friends in some pinball? Let’s get it. Sure, we’ve been playing our fair share of video games at home, but nothing beats beating a stranger’s high-score on The Simpsons arcade game or racing to Jurassic Park pinball, because if this quarantine has taught us anything it’s that, life, uh, finds a way. Photo via Pop OffWorld/Facebook
Waiting for another Detroit-style pizza place pop up in Corktown Maybe it’s a bit overkill, but Detroit loves nothing more than Detroit-style pizza. From classic slices to experimental pies, we’re not complaining when it comes to our ‘za selection. Pizza by Michigan & Trumbull/ Photo by Bridget Ekis
Being able to leisurely shop weekly for fresh food instead of making frantic trips to the grocery store to stock up on months’ worth of non-perishables Saturday mornings are a thing of beauty in Detroit. There’s nothing like heading to Eastern Market with your stash of reusable grocery bags and leisurely drinking Bloody Marys at Vivio’s before filling up on fresh produce, flowers, baked goods, and condiments from metro Detroit’s independent vendors and farmers. Instead, we’ve been forced to accept whatever cans of soup, spam, and frozen Hawaiian pizza (c’mon!) the big box grocery stores have left, because this is the apocalypse, baby. Courtesy of Eastern Market
Spending hours perusing Detroit’s many bookstores to stockpile books we will never read because we’re too busy leaving our house Decluttering expert Marie Kondo thinks no one household should have more than 30 books. We call bullshit. While in isolation, we’ve been making a serious dent in our 30+ book collection that has taken years of curating and well, not reading. But not having time to crack open a good read has never stopped us from spending way too long in John K. King’s Used and Rare Books, or finding the latest from a Detroit author at Pages Book Shop or Source Booksellers. Let’s just say, we cannot wait to close the book on this chapter. Photo via Pages Book Shop/Facebook
Filling our camera roll with the perfect blacklight selfie at Deluxx Fluxx Right now, our iPhone camera roll is a sad document of life in isolation: bored dog pics, unattractive photos of food we made, and screenshots of sweatsuits we look forward to owning. What we’re really craving is that strong selfie game. Specifically, 90 attempts at nailing the perfect blacklight selfie at Deluxx Fluxx, because it takes real skill to not look like an iron-deficient alien with glowing teeth. Photo via Deluxx Fluxx/Facebook
Accepting intimate human touch Not to get too heavy, but we will all have to overcome a shared trauma of human touch after this shit is over. But a great way to confront that is getting a seriously therapeutic rub-down, you know, like massages from Meta Physica Wellness Center or that weird cupping thing that makes your back look like an alien implanted eggs under your skin because, you know, toxins. Not ready for that? How about sweating it out with strangers at a sauna or steam room like The Schvitz? Another act of trust, but one that feels oh so good. Photo via Meta Physica Wellness Center/Facebook
Halloween The pandemic has taken the wind from our freak flag and we want to fly it, dammit! The one time of year when we can say, “hey, I’ll meet you in the fistatorium” or “hey, let’s grab some Absinthe from this guy’s face!” or “Hail Zombo!” has been taken from us. Of course, we’re talking about Theatre Bizarre, the annual spectacle that transforms Detroit’s historic Masonic Temple into a mischievous hedonist hellscape akin to an immersive R-rated — or in some cases X-rated — choose-your-own-nightmare. Photo by Trevor Long
Hugging people. Hugging all the damn people Listen, we get it. Detroit might be known around the world as being gritty and tough and, honestly, probably pretty badass. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love lovin’ on people. Truth be told, pre-COVID, we were, well, already a bit attention-starved, and we would give our right tit to be able to hug our friends again, or hug the stranger who handed you toilet paper from underneath their stall, or hug an impromptu duet partner at karaoke, because, yeah, we miss karaoke, too. When this is all over, Detroit, we’re gonna give you a sloppy hug and maybe a smooch, too, because we’re feeling frisky. Photo by Jonathan Weier

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