When I drove to the beach to work on my tan, I saw dozens of children playing tag, touching and pushing each other, squealing and laughing, but they had no masks! Their parents, also without masks, were snoozing under umbrellas, or drinking and chatting just inches away from each other. I felt like I had walked into a colony of diseased zombies! As a dutiful social justice warrior, I instinctively called 911, and within minutes squads of heavily armed police and two black helicopters swooped over the beach containing the violators. My eyes were filled with tears. Yes, it was my fault that I got too close to the tear gas canisters.
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