Muh Freedoms!; or, How to Deal With Anti-Maskers

“Put on a mask or I’ll Lysol you!”

I’d like to paint a picture for you. It’s a store, any brick-and-mortar location of any retail establishment in this country. You approach the glass doors, which slide open with a gentle whoosh. Inside the environment is frantic but hushed. It’s not quite as frantic as it was four months ago, but there is still a nervous energy permeating the air. The aisles are one-way roads, marked with large neon duct tape arrows on the floor to indicate the direction of travel, but many of the customers ignore it as they lament the fact that they must wear face masks and hurry to complete their shopping as quickly as possible.

You grab a cart. The handlebar has a film on them and the distinct smell of disinfectant, the remnants of being clean. You begin down one aisle, then another, picking off items as you cross them from your list. You handle them more carefully than usual and make a note to wash your hands as soon as you get the chance.

Then you turn the next corner. In the middle of the aisle, a woman is yelling at a stocker. His eyes above the edge of his mask are wide with surprise but heavy with the exhaustion of it all. The woman has light skin, fine blonde hair, curled and hair-sprayed. She has no mask.

This scene is everywhere in America. Someone has decided that their own personal freedom is more valuable than the health of their community. The rallying cry has been one of many things in a revolving door of absolute selfish insanity. Often it focuses on the high survivability of the virus, or the belief that it’s all a hoax to accomplish whatever ridiculous end they feel fits properly. Regardless, facts are ignored in favor or personal belief. In every case of this, personal selfishness is the belief that prevails as the basis for these outbursts.

The customer has just been informed that they are required to wear a mask while they are inside the store, as per city ordinance and store policy, or they must leave the premises. And just as a toddler does when told that they cannot have the overly sweet cereal that they want, the customer, a grown adult, throws a temper tantrum in public. Behind them, another customer shoots video.

She tries every trick in the book she can think of in a vain attempt to get her way. Her will and determination are strong; she is a vile and powerful adversary.

We’ve all seen this before, either via video footage or personal experience. They’re very creative in the excuses they employ, so let’s examine some of the more common ones:

1. “I have a medical issue”/ADA Compliance


Okay, yes, some people do have a legitimate medical issue preventing them from wearing a mask. However, those are very few and far between, and even people with medical conditions are wearing masks, so the point is moot.

When that excuse fails, they’ll naturally gravitate to the Americans with Disabilities Act, claiming that they must be accommodated, or those preventing them will face fines of up to $75,000. This is completely bunk. Here’s why.

Per the Department of Justice, the agency overseeing enforcement of the ADA: “The ADA does not provide a blanket exemption to people with disabilities from complying with legitimate safety requirements necessary for safe operations.” The National Law Review goes further to explain what this means: “The ADA generally prohibits eligibility/screening criteria that tend to exclude individuals based on a disability, unless the criteria are necessary for the business to operate safely in providing its goods and services. Those requirements must be based on actual risks and may not be based on speculation, stereotypes, or generalizations about people with disabilities. At this time, businesses concerned about the safety of their staff and customers should be justified in relying upon guidance from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), as well as state and local governments’ orders, to justify policies forbidding customers without face masks from entering their stores.”

In other words, if regulatory agencies and governmental bodies deem masks to be a safeguard essential for public safety, enforcement of a store policy in accordance with those guidelines does not violate the ADA, since a mask requirement is universally deemed necessary for the safe operation of a business.

So, no, you’re not going to get fined $75,000 for telling someone to mask up or take a hike. Be sure to offer other accommodations, such as curbside service, before putting on your best “fuck off” smile.

2. Personal Freedoms/FTBA


This one is the most selfish and idiotic of the bunch. So many of our “personal freedoms” are forfeited on a daily basis in the name of public safety. Driving regulations, such as seatbelt requirements, or smoking ordinances are common examples.

As a means to get around this, aside from yelling and throwing a temper tantrum, as in the above scenario I created, they have begun attempting to hide behind the Freedom to Breathe Agency, or FTBA. If this sounds ridiculous and made up, it absolutely is. The FTBA is neither a government agency, nor an agency at all. It has no power and no jurisdiction. Many of the selfish morons hiding behind its name carry around a card explaining that you shouldn’t violate their personal liberties. The card tries very hard to look legitimate, going so far as to even include the logo of the Department of Justice, which is an unauthorized use of the seal. The DOJ had to respond by saying that this is fraud. Feel free to laugh at anyone who tries to pass this off as legitimate and escort them to the exit.

3. CO2 Poisoning/Oxygen Flow Prevention/Ineffective Against the Virus


I’m just going to attack all three of these at once, because they all run counter to each other, and either they are all true or none of them are. Allow me to explain.

First, doctors and healthcare professionals wear N95 masks, the highest quality of PPE, for hours and hours a day and have suffered no ill effects from “carbon dioxide poisoning” or a lack of oxygen.

Second, let’s talk about the sizes of the particles we’re dealing with here: oxygen, carbon dioxide, and COVID-19 particles. (All of this information is taken directly from an article published by Loma Linda University.) So, the premise is that masks prevent the flow of oxygen in and carbon dioxide out. Also, a popular claim is that masks are ineffective against preventing COVID from passing through. To sum up, the claim is that COVID particles are smaller than Oxygen and Carbon Dioxide. This is a false claim.

Per the article, oxygen molecules measure in at 0.120 nanometers, carbon dioxide molecules at .232 nanometers, and COVID-19 particles at 120 nanometers. For scale, an oxygen molecule is 1/1000th the size of a COVID particle. Already, the claim is bullshit. Now, factor in the size of the the weave of an N95 mask at anywhere between 100 and 300 nanometers. Oxygen and carbon dioxide molecules will flow just fine through there. COVID particles, on the other hand, might not. It just depends on the mask, not all of which are created equal.

The bottom line with this one is anti-maskers need to figure out which one of these false claims they want you to debunk at a given moment. The truth is science backs up the ability to potentially prevent COVID spread while allowing free flow of oxygen and carbon dioxide. So, still, shut up and wear a mask.

BONUS ROUND: “You have to accept cash! It’s legal tender!”


Yes, it is legal tender, but no, there is no regulation forcing a business or person to accept cash as a method of payment. Per the Federal Reserve’s own website and Section 31 U.S.C. 5103, cash is only set up as legal tender for the purposes of settling debts but is not required for doing so. So, any time a customer says it’s the law for you to accept cash, politely inform them that it’s not.*

*Check your state and city laws and statutes to double-check this before going all-in on it.

Now, this information, alone, will not guarantee victory or success. That depends on a few other factors.

1. Information. Arm yourself with the facts above. Knowing the truth is half of the battle already. Facts are not opinions. They are indisputable. Even though anti-maskers will continue to dispute them.

2. Confidence. Believe in yourself and in the facts you carry. You hold far more power than they do. The worst they can do is get huffy, demand a manager, and then go cry on the internet, which brings me to my next point.

3. Backup. If you are able, request support, the higher up the chain of command, the better. But bring in whomever you can. There is safety and solidarity in numbers.

4. Stand firm. Anti-maskers pose a threat to everyone. We still don’t know enough about what this virus can and can’t do. We do know that PPE can help prevent the spread of the virus, but anti-maskers are too selfish to comply. There are a number of factors behind this, which I won’t get into here, but they ultimately believe that it is worthless and amounts to government control. Stand your ground against them, and you will prevail.

I wanted to create this guide to help essential service industry workers fight back against these bullies who are attempting to take advantage of them during an awful and challenging time. Hopefully, you will find something valuable here. Good luck out there, comrades. Stay safe.

-The Retail Explorer

American Hero? Or, What It’s Like to Be “Essential”

I originally wrote this article back in April, right as the world was shutting down. Much of this still applies, but so much of it is so different now, for many different reasons. I don’t know why I didn’t publish this back then. Or why I am now, for that matter. I guess I feel I need to get back out there and I need to say my piece.

“Thank you for continuing to work” is a sentence that I honestly never thought I would hear while working this job. I mean, why would I? I deliver packages, not save lives or protect the home front or anything like that. When I started this job nine months ago, that’s all it was: A job. No more. No less. Nothing special.

And now, here we are, under work-at-home quarantine as the result of a global pandemic known as Covid-19. I won’t rehash the grim set of circumstances that have brought us to this point. (None of us need any reminding of that.) But it’s brought up an interesting byproduct, the concept of essentiality.

(Since that word is underlined with a red, squiggly line, I’m assuming it’s not a real word. But I’m running with it anyway.)

There are two groups of people currently: Those who are “essential,” in that they perform a job or function that is essential to keeping society functional, and those who are not. It’s a unique position for many of us who have, for so long, been deemed to be lesser, looked down upon by those who work in offices at desks behind computers, who make sales and deals and big decisions.

With unemployment expected to reach over 35,000,000, many of those not among that number are those who work these “lesser” jobs. In fact, many companies deemed to perform essential duties are ramping up hiring to meet increased demand in these dangerous and trying times. Amazon recently announced it was hiring 100,000 for its deliver network for this same reason. (Amazon is its own kettle of fish, and I’m not going to try to boil that down to a few paragraphs here.)

Anyway, since I am in logistics, I am very fortunate to still have a job, as logistics is an essential industry. As I conclude my third week as such, I’d like to share some thoughts on what it means to be considered “essential”:

  1. It’s fucking weird. I drive a van and put boxes on front porches. There’s not much to it beyond that. I don’t feel like I’m performing such a vital service (though I’m sure I am), and I don’t know if I ever will. I saw a graphic/meme online the other day thanking essential workers for their service. Among those thanked were those serving in the armed forces, first responders, medical professionals, and…service industry workers. To see someone in my line of work placed on the same plane as those incredible people is surreal, and I don’t think it will ever not feel weird.
  2. People have gotten dumber. Going beyond all the morons still gathering for church on Sundays, and the idiot college kids partying at spring break, people have lost their minds. In the absence of a normally operating society, people have forgotten all societal norms. I can’t tell you how many times a day I see people out walking their dogs down the middle of the street, completely ignoring everything else, such as perfectly-usable SIDEWALKS and two-ton I-could-easily-flatten-you-like-a-pancake AUTOMOBILES driving straight at them.
  3. I hate anyone who parks head-in on a cul-de-sac. Seriously, you’re scum. Harsh words, perhaps, but when I’m trying to do my job in a large vehicle with horrific visibility in neighborhoods where it’s best not to do any reversing, I thrive on the ease and simple joy of making a loop around a cul-de-sac. However, when I pull in and find five or six vehicles with their asses taking up valuable turning real estate, my eye twitches with rage. So, if you do this, when you had the clear option of parking along the curb like a normal human, you’re an asshole, and I want you to know that.
  4. I hate wearing gloves. I know they’ll protect me, but they make my hands clammy and incredibly uncomfortable. Plus, they make it difficult to work my devices for my job. Also, I love/hate hand sanitizer. Also, I apparently love touching my face.
  5. I’ve heard people complaining about how we don’t ring doorbells anymore, and I want you to know that we hear you and we don’t care. Not a bit. I’d rather not risk picking up any more germs than I already do on a daily basis by pressing on your doorbell/knocking on your door. I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’ve been doing. I don’t know where you’ve been. Frankly, while I’m performing this crucial task for you, I’d like to stay as safe as I can, thankyouverymuch. If your package is really that important to you, check your front porch often, check your email often, check the tracking info, or buy a dog (they will 110% let you know when somebody might possibly could be in the general, vague vicinity of your porch. You don’t complain about the mail like this, do you? (I know there are other reasons to complain about the postal service, but delivery alerts is not usually one of them.)
  6. People have become less considerate. I mean, I knew they were inconsiderate before this whole mess, but it’s glaring now. I used to receive a “thanks” from the majority of people who saw me on my route. Now, I’m lucky to hear more than one. I don’t think I’m asking for much here. It’s just that it’s nice to feel appreciated.

So, what can I say that’s constructive? Okay. I think I’ve got it. Here are some things that you, as a customer, can do to help during this time of crisis:

  1. Update your delivery preferences (if applicable). Stop asking us to deliver to your fenced-in rear porch. Especially since the pandemic, we’re not touching anything more than we have to, and that includes your side gate. Beyond that, it’s against company policies. Also, stop asking us to put it in your mailbox. That’s a federal crime, and I’m definitely not going to jail/getting a fine for you. The bottom line is this: Make things simple for us. We’re doing the best we can under the circumstances.
  2. Be friendly. I’m literally putting my health on the line so that you can stay home and help flatten the curve while still receiving the video game you so desperately needed to ignore the family you’re quarantined with for the foreseeable future. If you see a delivery person in your neighborhood, give us a smile or a wave or a “hello”.
  3. Thank/tip a service industry worker. Seriously, I don’t care who they are or where they work. If they’re doing a job for you during this pandemic, they deserve your honest thanks. By the same token, if you see someone deliver something to your door, and they’re within earshot, tell them “thanks”. And if they’re not within earshot, wait until they turn around and give them a wave. I can’t tell you just how much we appreciate that little gesture.

I think I’d like to close by saying one simple thing: Wear a damn mask, you selfish heathens.

Until next time, comrades.

– The Retail Explorer

Open or Closed: The Great Conundrum

Note: This post was originally published years ago on tumblr, and it’s best if you read it in the voice of a Victorian explorer.

I used to think that a sign stating that a business was closed was an unnecessary thing. After all there are clear indicators as to whether or not a business is open at a given time, such as the hours of operation posted on the door or whether or not there are lights on inside the business or people walking and working there. I used to think that was fairly self explanatory.

How wrong I was.

I should have heeded Bill Engvall’s warnings about stupid people. They are everywhere and have absolutely zero comprehension of, well, anything really. It wasn’t until I accepted my current position that I truly grasped this concept. A good chunk of this population is stupid, and that population is only growing larger. I fear that the future presented to us in the film Idiocracy is probably the most realistic view of our dystopian future that has ever been produced.

In the span of a few days, I was privileged enough to witness two remarkable examples of the tendencies of a stupid person. The first came inside of my own store.

I had just closed up shop for the day, done my end of day report, counted the drawer, totaled the receipts, and was heading to the safe with the report and the day’s deposit. I had to leave the darkened shop to reach the safe in the store room by way of a sliding glass door on the side of the shop. I flung it behind me but had to turn back to make sure that the door had indeed closed (it hadn’t). But it was now most assuredly closed.

So, I proceeded to the safe inside the store room to secure the deposit, only to emerge from the room no less than a minute later to find the side door wide open and a tall, lanky man inside asking for the person who worked there.

“I work here.”

“Oh! Good! The door was just open (no, YOU opened it). I need a map.”

Words were nowhere to be found. I was so taken aback by the whole situation, I honestly didn’t know what to do. The audacity of his stupidity literally left me in a stupor. So, I sold him what he needed, and added it to a new report since he paid with plastic and didn’t mess up my drawer count. It was the path of least resistance.

As he left, he asked what time I closed. By this time, it was 5:15 pm. I told him that we closed at five.

“Oh. Heh,” he said.

Get out of my store.

Two days later, on a lovely Saturday morning, a young man went to the shop across the hall from mine. During the week they are open before me, but on Saturdays, I opened an hour before they did. It was 8:40 am, twenty minutes before their posted hours of 9-12. The store completely dark. There was no one even inside the store. I watched as he approached the door, examined the situation, observed the posted hours of operation, and then checked his watch. Apparently he still needed more information. He gave the door handle a tug and found it to be locked.

Did you honestly expect a different result?

Now, I have a completely customer-first mentality, because they are the lifeblood of a retail operation. You provide the goods for which they give you cash money (Shout out to Grammar Girl for her podcast on the use of “cash money”). It’s basic economics. However, there are always good customers and bad customers. Stupid people fall into the latter category.

Still, I struggle to comprehend the logic here. What about a darkened store with no one inside says, “oh, yes, we’re most assuredly open and ready to serve your needs,”? Now, if there was a light on or an employee inside, I could understand the confusion.

I went to a drive-thru restaurant one night that had employees inside, lights on, and even the giant sign by the street still glowing brightly. I was unable to see the hours on the door, so I proceeded. No part of that image should give the indication that a business is closed. But they were. I sat at the order box waiting for any voice and found none to even tell me that they were closed. How much effort does it take to tell someone that you’re no longer serving? Zero. I received glares and scowls as I drove past. I have yet to return to that drive-thru. Yet I digress.

So, what is there about a darkened, empty shop makes a person think that the store is open? The only stores I’ve ever been to that were dark and empty like that were ones I’ve opened for business. And that’s when I realized it: since stupid people don’t wear signs, as Engvall wishes they would, our places of business must wear them instead. We must inform everyone one as to whether or not we are in fact in operation at a given time. Subtlety is a lost art and semiotic questions have answers which are completely unknown to some people.

“The store doesn’t have lights on or people in it. What does that mean?”

If you don’t know the answer, it means you’re stupid. But apparently, nowadays, it means, “Yes, we’re open! Come on in!”

-The Retail Explorer