Europe is currently experiencing its “second wave” of the Wuhan Coronavirus, and a number of countries are in the process of imposing varying degrees of a new lockdown. Spain, France, and the UK have adopted particularly strict regimes.
MissPiggy sends this report of her personal experience with Coronamadness in Germany:
Yesterday I visited hairdresser’s and immediately ran afoul of the Corona regulations. First it was about not having the “right mask”. Then I was given my next instructions about going to the bathroom to wash my hands. After that I was told my hands needed to be disinfected.
I said, “I’m sorry, I just washed my hands — that should be enough.” I showed my hands, and said that I have an allergic reaction on my hands (fingertips) from all these disinfectants. So I refused, and they said, “Sorry, then we can’t serve you.”
Then they agreed to just spray the palms. So far, so good. Then I had to fill out a form with my contact information. That’s when I said, “Nope. I’ll spend my money elsewhere.” So now there’s a “mobil friseur” coming to my house on Tuesday.
As for that hairdresser’s, they can go bankrupt. The owner even said in the end that he had no understanding for people who wouldn’t comply with these measures. His reasoning was that because of people like me, there will be a second lockdown. I told him that was going to happen with or without people like me.
At one point I just asked, “What’s next, a PCR to get your hair cut?” Their response was, “No, no…” That launched a whole discussion about how this isn’t their idea, that they have to follow instructions, and they don’t want another lockdown because they barely survived the first one, etc.
I had the same conversation with a lady at the fish counter in a grocery store. I didn’t have my glasses on and she pointed at something I couldn’t see, so I leaned forward. She barked at me to stay behind the magic tape on the floor. I retorted, “If I don’t, will you call the Corona police?” She explained to me that they are also sick of it all, but they have secret shoppers from the health department checking up on them.
MissPiggy’s story brought to mind the following poem by W.H. Auden. I’ve posted it before, but it’s worth revisiting.
It was written in the 1930s, during another rapid expansion of the all-powerful socialist state: