Who Is That Masked Man?

 I have never robbed a supermarket. Well, that’s not entirely true. Once, when I was about six years old, I stole a pack of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum from Pathmark while I was shopping with my dad. I wasn’t allowed to have gum at that time in my life, but all the cool kids in my class chewed it, so I thought if I could get my hands on some gum, I just might be a cool kid, too.  (Of course, I didn’t consider the fact that I had about two dozen other peculiarities that made me uncool and making my jaw move up and down at school wouldn’t make that all go away.) In any event, I pocketed the pack of gum when my dad wasn’t looking, but was so wracked with guilt about the whole thing, I just kept it hidden at the back of my sock drawer for the rest of my childhood and never actually brought the gum to school.

Now, decades after the Great Gum Heist of ’75, I find myself feeling like a criminal every time I enter a supermarket wearing my mask. I have no intention of actually robbing the place, of course, but it always occurs to me that with the lower half of my face hidden, I could potentially grab armfuls of cantaloupe and go running out of the store without anybody recognizing me. It’s a perfect crime, really. First off, when they ask witnesses if they got a good look at the thief they would have to say, “It was some guy wearing a mask,” which would narrow it down to almost everybody in the entire store. Secondly, I would be able to eat the evidence. (This is exactly why, in my fantasy, I steal cantaloupe rather than toilet bowl brushes.)

Of course, since everyone is wearing masks these days, we all have the potential to be a successful outlaw. In some ways, this makes me feel bad for those people who were mask-wearing outlaws prior to the pandemic. You have to figure that wearing a mask is what made them feel special. I mean who doesn’t like dress up? But once everyone started wearing masks, I’m guessing they died a little bit inside. What would be the fun in putting on a mask to hold up a store if everyone else in the store is wearing one too? In fact, I’m guessing the majority of people you see in stores these days without masks aren’t doing it because they’re irresponsible science deniers, but rather because they once wore masks when holding up stores and need to feel special again. So the next time you see one of these folks, you should probably give them a hug.

As for me, I will continue to be a mask-wearing, yet law abiding citizen. But every time I step into a Fry’s or Safeway with just my eyes showing above my face covering, I’ll know that at any second I could become a maniacal melon thief and no one would ever be able to identify me. Of course, now that I’ve written about this, the next time there’s a major melon heist, I’ll be the first one the cops come looking for. I guess I’ve constructed the perfect crime for anybody other than me. You’re welcome.