A local man entered a local retail establishment Tuesday afternoon and adamantly refused to back up, violating local social distancing requirements. Gunter Chang was wearing a mask as required but apparently balked at being asked to distance himself from the establishment's manager.
"I'm wearing a mask as mandated," declared the mildly miffed man. "Why do I still have to back up?" he asked. "I'm not trying to be sarcastic, I really want to know!" he explained as he crossed his arms and would not budge.
The manager attempted to explain, but Mr. Chang quickly lost interest in favor of just mouthing off. "Why am I even wearing a mask when I'm standing in a line snaking outside through the snow six feet apart?" he screamed in a muffled voice in order to be understood through the mask.
The manager attempted once again to explain, but was abruptly cut off by the increasingly incensed Mr. Chang. "Why, exactly, am I wearing this soggy wet baby diaper on my face?" he pointed to the reservoir of post nasal drip beneath his glasses. As he snorted in obvious self amusement, his gurgling nasal sound distracted from his dry wit.
He attempted to bring more people into his public display of contempt, shouting at a lady near the front door, "Am I right?" He was thrilled when she began waving her hands wildly in agreement, only because he didn't know that in sign language she was actually saying, "I don't know what in the hell you are talking about. I read lips!"
Other locals in the local establishment kept a cautious distance as Chang's tirade continued. The manager informed Mr. Chang that, unless he moved back, she would be forced to call the police. But this seemed to further infuriate the already irate customer, slowly suffocating on his own carbon dioxide.
"What next? If the virus can be spread through farts, are you going to recirculate them back through my ass?" he slurred his words. "Call your gestapo to enforce your tyranny, if you will, but I will never yield to your....uh, oh," he trailed off as two officers appeared on both sides of him.
"Come on you," one said, attempting to de-escalate the situation. "Just back up," he advised. Feigning bravado as his 2 minutes in the spotlight of dissent was rapidly coming to an end, Mr. Chang challenged the invitation to simply depart with, "What if I don't?", he sucked his miniscule testicles into his body, squeezing the very last ounce of bass into his voice.
The "what if?" was a sharp strike with a baton to an area between the upper thigh and lower buttock. As Chang went down to the floor with an, "Egad. That's a pain that will linger" look in his eyes, his eyes met the manager's. "I just have to know....why?" he groaned, writhing on the floor. "Why do I wear a mask and still have to back up?"
She walked over to him slowly, leaned down to look him in the eye. Clearly in violation of social distancing protocol, she pulled her mask down so he could see her sneer. She leaned to within inches of his masked face, and said, "Because you're in my f***ing office! The front counter is over there, moron!"
As the ordeal came to a peaceful end, and Mr. Chang was led away leaning on his good leg, he was overheard admitting that the mask fogging up his glasses probably played a role in this debacle. "I just walked right past that counter. These masks are hell on cold days," he said.