I have had the supreme joy of leaving a state with very little to no mask insanity (North Dakota) to one with an almost absurd attachment to masking... to the point where I can not even sit and enjoy a meal in a restaraunt (to be blunt, North Dakota's food culture is abysmal. Truly, epically abysmal. Decent steak and... nope, that was it. Decent steak. And I like steak, but... you know, a pika needs a little variety. I'd hunt small children for food, but, wait, that's just more steak at the end of the day, isn't it?)
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. So I was certain I would be arrested during my stay for basically refusing to abridge my rights to bodily autonomy and my right to not breath my own halitosis all day long, but as it turns out... my mom is in fact a full blown Karen, in addition to being a true believer on masks. Literally my first day visiting she was calling some business to talk to the manager about an employee who had been wearing their mask improperly. I'll face jail over this issue, but...
So, spineless wimp that I am, I dutifully wear the pathetically pointless symbol of my submission to Big Brother every time I go out for coffee.
There is no joy in enjoying my first Lamb Korma in four fucking years. I'm ready to go back to 'what is this and why is it swimming in grease' land, where I can at least sit and eat my mystery casseroles and my excellent and mostly cheap steak in peace and without sounding like darth vader's wimpy cousin.