Snitches

I’m a people person and averse to confrontation…until something happens that doesn’t make sense to me. I begin to ask questions and evaluate explanations. When explanations don’t make sense, I default to the uncommon position of common sense: think for yourself, make a conclusion, act accordingly. So I tend to go along when it makes sense, not merely to avoid conflict. I am also a sociologically curious person; a people watcher. Along these lines, one of the social experiments I’ve been conducting since the beginning of “The Great Panic”, has been to understand the difference between people’s true concern for others and people’s mere concern for how they are perceived by others. There are beliefs and there are also perceived beliefs. Sometimes these align well and sometimes the dissonance is too much to bare.

I had recent opportunity to fly. It was the first time I traveled by plane since the Great Panic. I’ve been grateful for not having to fly. If I didn’t like crowds before the Great Panic, I dislike crowds all the more since. People’s lack of common sense was a greater deterrent than getting sick. I knew flying would be a struggle for me, especially If I wasn’t sick because, common sense for like, uh, I don’t know…EVER! has been: If I’m not sick and I’m not afraid of getting sick then, Southwest Airlines says it best, “DING, You are now free to move about the country.” So, from the beginning of the Great Panic, after hearing the policy from the CDC, I put out my own policy (I figure we both have about the same amount of authority) No mask unless I’m asked. I quickly discovered I was nearly never asked. I went about my regular daily routines in my regular manner. I’m originally from Commiefornia, the Pinko side, but now I live in Texas, so I thought I had it easy. Now with all my data behind me, I was anxious to travel and test my theories and observations elsewhere.

With her beautiful smile and her sweet roll of the eyes my wife dropped me at the airport, maskless. When I went through security I was told, “Sir, you need to wear a mask.” I replied something to the effect of, “OK, so I’m clear I need to wear the mask while I’m going the security screening?” “Yes sir.” “Thank you sir. I understand.” They even provided me with a mask. So, I put it on, went through security and promptly removed it once I was finished, saying, “Thank you. Have a nice day!” to the TSA agent as I proceeded to my gate. No one stopped me or chased me down, in fact no one said anything to me about not wearing my mask, whether or not they themselves were wearing one. When I arrived at my gate, no one said anything until I began boarding. Again I was asked and again I put it on to get onto the plane. Once I got to my seat, I again removed my mask and promptly fell asleep in the window seat. No one woke me to put on my mask, those sitting next me expressed no discomfort or concern. I went about my entire weekend in Utah the same way. aside from the airport I was never asked to wear my mask the entire weekend. Nothing from the Hotel. Nothing form the Convention Center. Nothing from the multiple restaurants. Nothing.

When my time away came to an end, I arrived at the airport to return home to find my previous airport experience was not a fluke. The returning experience was nearly identical as the first time. I arrived home on a mid-morning flight, landing at an inconvenient time of day to arrange a ride from anyone. So, I dusted off my Uber app and requested the hipster Dial-a-Ride. My Uber arrived. I got in and off we went. Not a word was said beyond, “Hello”, and confirming my name for the ride. Travel from the airport to my home was pleasant, quiet and relaxed. I was glad to not have a “talker” and I remember thinking, “Well, another uneventful trip behind me”.

As I got out of my Uber ride and processed my trip at home, I thought to myself, “OK, what’s my take away?” First of all, these experiences convinced me travel in the post Panic era could be tolerable, even nearly as pleasant as before the Panic. Secondly, knowing people act according to their beliefs, I can only conclude overwhelmingly, nobody really believes masks are better than common sense. Can you blame them though? And then I received a text.

I looked at my phone to see a text from Uber. “They want to thank me for choosing Uber for my ride,” I thought as I opened it. Not at all. I shouldn’t say I was surprised but I was. I couldn’t believe what I was reading on the subject line, “We received feedback regarding your face mask on a recent trip” What?! I was being monitored?! I opened the email and read the following, “Your driver shared with us that you weren’t wearing a face mask during a recent trip.” Further, “Riders who receive multiple reports of not wearing a mask will lose access to the app.” I also received 1 star as a rating from my driver. Remember, our only interaction was a pleasant hello and confirming each other’s names. The driver said not one word until we arrived at my home and I said cheerfully,”Thank you for the ride!”. “You’re welcome! Have a blessed day!”

This was at least rude and certainly cowardly. Snitching is a funny way to bless someone not to mention the passive-aggressive manner in which it was done. I can’t help but think the driver must’ve felt some sense of virtue in doing so, quietly gaining approval from somewhere. Maybe the driver got snitched on by others when they were young, I don’t know. I couldn’t get over the fact this was the only time we meet and our time together was completely silent except for the bookends of a dozen or so words. All I did was commit the mortal sin of not wearing a max. Seriously? I was flummoxed. then I realized, thankfully, I hadn’t yet rated my driver. I immediately logged back into my Uber app rated my driver one star and explained my actions for the record not because I thought they cared. It certainly wasn’t going to make a difference but the difference was for me. I knew someone would read it and that was enough, for now. I closed my app, deleted it from my phone, laid back in my chair and soberly contemplated the works of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. I wondered as well what life may have been like for ordinary citizens in Germany in the 30s or in Stalin’s Russia.