This Is A Free Country. That’s Why My Mask Covers Everything But My Mouth.

First, I’d like to thank the city council members for being here today before I berate you for the next 20 minutes. 

So you’re trying to mandate that I have to wear a mask in public? Okay, I’ll play ball. Even I can recognize that Covid-19 is a danger to society, some may even say a respiratory virus, but let’s get one thing straight. It is the responsibility of every American to take safety into their own hands. 

For you, that might mean covering your mouth, but for me, that means fashioning my own “mask,” a mask that protects me by covering every inch of my body except for my mouth. 

Now you might take one look at me and dismiss me as a mysterious lone wolf, clad in what essentially amounts to a quasi-morph suit sewn together with stray articles of clothing I stole from various lost and founds, but I am so much more. By cutting out an airhole in my protective armor, I am a patriot, standing up to tyrants who want to deny me the most effective medicine of all: big mouthfuls of refreshing, American air. 

I may not be able to see out of this thing, but I can sort of make out the injustice before me. What happened to the First Amendment? I refuse to have my personal liberties encroached upon by covering my mouth in public rather than stumbling out of my house every day, wrapped from head to toe in a thin layer of fabric that inhibits nearly everything that I do. 

You can’t make me wear something I don’t want to. Last time I checked, we aren’t in a totalitarian state (unless, of course, I have unknowingly stumbled onto a shipping barge, transporting me thousands of miles to an active war zone which is totally possible). We live in America, a nation founded on justice, freedom, and the right to cough on a city bus without anyone knowing who I am. 

Look, I’m not telling you what to do. If you want to feel safe by covering your mouths, to each their own, you little freaks. I may not be a doctor, but I’m also not a construction worker, or a lawyer, or a horticulturist for that matter. Does that mean my medical opinion is any less valid than yours? 

At the end of the day, I know what’s best for my health. I have contracted thousands of diseases and each one was a valuable learning lesson that helped produce the well-adjusted person wearing a full-body mask that stands here today. Don’t try to use this pandemic as an excuse to subjugate me when I have far more pressing health concerns, like wandering onto a nearby freeway or figuring out how I get this thing off before I overheat and slip into an unconscious state. 

So go ahead and say that this isn’t even a mask. Then again, what is a mask? Something that covers your face? Something that hides who you really are, that helps you construct a web of lies? In that way, my mask and I are more honest than all of you combined. Because despite how it looks, this isn’t a sex thing. This is a freedom thing. And I think that’s beautiful. 

Now if someone could shift my body so that I am facing the direction of the nearest exit, that’d be wonderful.

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