I can feel it dear worst-reader. The contempt. The disdain. The disrespect. It’s everywhere here, don’t you know. Of course, what better place to actually see the origin of it all–the all that is contempt, disdain, etc., than to be in the lower canal bowels of the bellied beast that is my beloved & missed #Americant. Indeed. I mean. I’m actually here and I still refer to Her in the past tense. But let’s not get to far off worst-subject. Let’s just stick with contempt & co. For. Don’t you know, dear worst-reader, it’s a good thing #Americant is vaccinating people as fast as it is. Every time I look around, no matter where I am, someone with a mask hanging half down his/her face is hugging someone who has a mask hanging around only one of her/his ears. And then there’s all the touching. People literally go up to other people and get in their face. I saw this really tall, fat American lean over one of those clear guard panels in order to point to a clerk with his long arms and fingers that his papers were in order. As he pulled his hand back over the guard panel he almost hit the clerk in the face. Perhaps social distancing hasn’t registered here even though there are lots of markings on grounds and floors detailing six feet social distancing. Hence. #Americants hate what is happening to them post Ronald Reagan and the dipshittery of thirty or whatever years of wars of choice. So what should they care about pandemics? But I digress.
The plan was to self-test after three or four days of arrival. You know, check and see if the airports, the planes, the pretty stewardesses, didn’t pass on the covid worst-moi. According to the result above, I reckon I’m in the clear. Then again, this morning I did spend well over an hour in a department of motor vehicle facility waiting to get my new-fangled state slash federal driving license. I mean. I’m not really sure what it’s called or what it’s actually about. But ever since early 2019 (pre-pandemic) I’ve been itching to get me this license on account I was approached in an airport on a connecting flight that inquired about my driving license and that to avoid any sharper scrutiny I should renew my license to this new fangled one. But. Again. I’m not really sure what these government agencies post Homeland are actually up to with their enhanced bureaucracies. All I know is, like the comforts of home (or underneath one), I prefer traveling and talking to as few people as possible about who/what I am. Which means, I got no issues showing an identification here or there. So I went and got the damn new fangled license this morning and after being crowded into such a low ceiling building with so many people–even though you couldn’t get in unless you had an appointment–I’m thinking I need another antigen test. Speaking of which. Time to go wash my hands with lots of lather for twenty or so seconds.
Other than that, dear worst-reader, at least there are some nice fews when taking walks in a beach town.