Wasted Shots

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 Spoke at length with an anti-vaxxer yesterday.

I knew I was in trouble when he asked me if I’d been vaccinated.

“Johnson & Johnson,” I said.

“Did you grow a third nipple?”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.

“Let me ask you, why would you do that?”

I didn’t want the conversation but I was sort of trapped there.

“A lot of death,” I said. “I’m in the age range. Watched it take a couple of guys I know.”

“They were probably already sick. For me, I’m healthy as a horse. I’m not putting that in my body. They don’t know what they’re doing. It’s all been rushed.”

I nodded.

Tried not to get aggravated.

Screw it!

“They? Who’s they? The scientists? The ones who’ve been working on this for decades? This wasn’t just a concoction whipped up in a basement.”

“Come on, dude. They’re just controlling you.”

“How?” I asked. “I got the shot. Hurt for a day. Haven’t had the urge to do anything for them since I got it.”

“But you still have a mask, why?”

“Because it’s not a sacrifice to do it until we’re rid of this.”

He laughed.

“So dumb. Sheep! You work for the government now.”

I left him standing there.

Was zero sense in finishing the debate.

He won’t change his mind.

And thousands of thousands of shots just sit there.

Not protecting anyone.

‘Merica!

“I’m free to die in my own phlegm if I want!”

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