Saturday, May 8, 2021

Super-Spreader Is The New Boogeyman

The point of my not-trying hospital/clinic staff tale yesterday was this: If THE VIRUS is so rampant and contagious around here right now, strict protocols would still be followed. Followed to the point of firing staff who don't comply. 
 
The screeners would have been wearing gloves and protective eyeware. And shooting everyone with the temperature gun, and whisking any fevers up to isolation on the 4th floor. They would be tagging people with specific destinations, and checking as they got off the elevator on each floor.
 
The desk gal at my office would NOT have had me sign the electronic thingy with the attached pen. Or would have jumped up immediately to swab it with alcohol wipes as soon as I finished.
 
My doctor NURSE PRACTITIONER wouldn't have dared examined me without washing his hands. I could have recorded him with my phone! He would still be wearing the N95 mask with the snorkel hole that he had on last May, for which he said all staff had been fitted, and were required to wear. Rather than the common blue paper mask.
 
The lab receptionist would not have tempted death with her mask under her chin. SICK PEOPLE go to the lab for tests.
 
Workers would not be bringing in two giant black garbage bags of black balloons for a birthday party. They would have to let those balloons sit for a few days to de-covid.

The media would have you believe that super-spreaders are the source of all the world's current problems. The all-powerful super-spreaders! 

Imagine the poor innocent double-vaccinated citizen, high horse parked in the barn, minding their own business in their hermetically-sealed home. Locked in a safe room, fully masked and goggled and shielded, inside a deep-sea-diver's suit, relaxing inside an iron lung. Then a super-spreader squeals by in a muscle car, breathing freely, windows down, radio blaring (perhaps a Steve Miller Band tune), and exhales.

WELP! There you go! That dang super-spreader just killed Innocent Citizen's grandma!

Any person without a mask, and without a vaccine card taped to their forehead, is the new scapegoat. Obviously a super-spreader. Doesn't matter if they're not sick. No symptoms, negative test, walking alone outdoors, 100 yards away from people. THAT'S the culprit! If you step out on your porch without a mask, their filthy breath is so powerful that it will swoop in and infect you. Unless you've just briefly pulled your mask down to take a puff on your cigarette, or swig a sip of designer coffee, or bite off a piece of avocado toast.
 
Nobody ever catches THE VIRUS from another masked person, or from a double-vaccinated person, or through the drive-thru restaurant window, by a momentary lapse in hand-face hygiene of their own doing. It's always the super-spreader. Super-spreaders must get around in more crowds than Waldo!
 
Sorry. I don't buy it. Actually, I'm not even sorry...

7 comments:

River said...

HAH! all true.
and who still eats avocado toast? That's so last century. Move on people.

Sioux Roslawski said...

It's nice to know that I can inspire something in someone. ;)

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
Genius and his crowd eat avocado toast, I presume. And perhaps The Pony's people, aside from his 2nd Bestie, who is partial to year-old chocolate chip cookies off the floor of a Nissan Rogue.


***
Sioux,
You're the wind beneath my wings. The wings on my BIG OL' JET AIRLINER! I'm trying not to get too carried away.

As promised, your very special title is coming up...

Sioux Roslawski said...

You're a plaigiaroker. Not mediocre. You're a practical joker...

Say it ain't so. If you continue to rip off this incredibly deep lyric, I will have no choice but to report you to the PoL. (Do you know what the PoL is?)

No choice...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Oops! Too late! It's comin' down the pike in about 45 minutes. I'm not scared of the PoL, whatever that is. People of Law? People of waLmart? Plagiarizers of Lemons?

Sioux Roslawski said...

The Pompatus of Love, of course.

With that miss, you don't even deserve to be a dues-paying member of the "Joker Fan Club." Consider yourself removed.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
Sweet Gummi Mary! I'm so used to being called MAURICE that I did not even see the Pompatus of Love on the horizon. If it was a snake, it woulda bit me! As for my removal... I wasn't paying my dues anyway, even though my check was perpetually in the mail.