San Francisco has been sheltering at home for over a month and it’s starting to wear on people. I take my dog for a walk to the beach or the park every day and I’ve noticed that some people are starting to get agitated and possessive of their personal space. At least three times last week I’ve had someone say something about staying six feet apart or telling me to get back. I call them space enforcers.
They usually a bitter white person in their forties, often seen walking alone (occasionally on bikes), and don’t wear masks despite their paranoia. They are the Karens of Coronavirus. Not all space enforcers are Karens, but all Karens are space enforcers.
Just yesterday I was on the beach and a space enforcer told me I was walking too close to him. He was more than twelve feet away from me. I pointed at the big blue bandana on my face and said, “I’m way more than six feet away from you and I have a mask on. You’re the rude one contaminating the air. Stay the fuck at home if you’re so paranoid.” It was as eloquent as that but it’s my story so I’ll make myself look better.
Quarantine fatigue is starting to get to everyone. I try to be civil and give people their space. But I will always stand up to space enforcers. They aren’t making this situation any better.
Critically Rated at 4/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed By Brendan H. Young