Masked Advantages

Wearing "The Stacers Mask", circa early 2020.

Mask up! Why? Because it encourages free speech, hides expressions which encourage complaints, muffles curses and hides facial features displaying total disgust. Emotions we are prohibited to express. 

They are a terrible hindrance, especially for us fully-bearded folks. Facial hair keeps my face warm, but itches like crazy underneath my new mask of choice, the N95. Supposedly more protective in this damned pandemic. Even though I'm exposed to anyone who breathes their possibly-infected spittle in my direction, this mask is supposed to be "la bomba". 

Since, February of 2020, my face has been covered. Prior to our transit agency's ill-prepared rush to provide "required" masks, Beloved sewed me some which I wore to prevent my immune system from having to find yet another way to protect itself from whatever slithers aboard. A sister Operator also fashioned one for me, which I eagerly and gratefully accepted.

Once the freebies arrived, I found them more comfortable than a tight-fitting one (thanks and apologies, Beloved). I made the switch, freely changing them at the end of the line for a fresh one. Our exhalations produce heavy humidity which break down the fallacious protective fibers after a few hours of use. Not that they effectively block the tiny Coronavirus particles from being inhaled through the holes a bit larger than those killer bastards' dimensions.

Here are some advantages of Operator Mask Requirement:

• Now, when a private motorist cuts me off, flips me the bird or exhibits other such foolish behavior, I'm comfortable in expressing my preferred response. They can't read my lips.
• When some poorly-raised imbecile gives me trouble, they can't see my mouth moving. (See above.)
• As someone boards in a foul mood and I greet them cordially only to be met with rudeness, they don't realize I am lambasting them in language I won't describe here.
• When I predict a dangerous situation and quickly react, saving the potential toe-tagger so smoothly the phone-stoned passengers don't even notice, the pedestrian/motorist/scooter-pooter/cyclist can't translate my response. 
• Nobody understands my muffled "dumbass/moron/dipshidiot/imbecilic twit" exclamations.
• There's no need to fear my Cartman-inspired outbursts, in a language all its own.

Not even the "spy cameras" can detect what I'm saying, nor can their microphones. If I channel Carman, they cannot decipher the words I'm intoning because they have no vocal definition. Just ask next time you see me, and I'll give you an example.

So yeah, the masks aren't entirely a "bad" thing. I'm truly tired of them, but maybe I'll wear them long past the time they are required. Just for fun.