I’ve decided to get myself tested for coronavirus, and I’ve booked an appointment at a drive-in centre. I arrive at the location which is at the back of an industrial estate. There is no-one about and it’s very quiet. There isn’t even a queue. all I can see are some metallic industrial barrels stacked up on the corner of the road, with a bricked building with two wooden doors opposite. I drive over, wind down my window and peer inside. One barrel is full of blue disposal plastic gloves. Protruding out of another is a long, thin black plastic pole with a plastic lid on top. On top of this is a light piece of perspex, a bit like a microscope slide. I then receive a text message: ‘You have arrived at the government coronavirus testing centre; please place a piece of your skin on the glass then make your way home. Your results will be e-mailed to you’. It’s more akin to aliens trying to hide my DNA.
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