I travel by tram to Leidseplein. As I have been doing for over two years now, I am wearing a face mask. I like wearing one. I find it relaxing, it makes me anonymous, what I like and when it's cold the mask keeps me warm.
I now have one where my glasses no longer fog up.
At the stop I see that a face mask is still mandatory.
In the tram I am amazed that so many people travel without a mask and that nothing is said about it. I still remember the time when I rushed into the tram and was addressed in an extremely aggressive way through the loudspeakers by the ticket collector. I didn't even realize she was talking to me at first. Pretty quickly I feel I wasn't wearing my mask and while I put it on, I heard hateful words addressed to me. More people without masks are getting in.
We go to the cinema my sister and I, to Drive My Car, a film based on a story by Haruki Murakami who had just won an Oscar.
My sister is already waiting.
I tell her that at least 50% of the passengers were not wearing a mask and that nothing was said about it.
“Fifty percent?” my sister repeats.
"Yes," I say indignantly.
“And nothing was said at all.”
I'm starting my story about that time.
My sister looks at me in surprise.
“But don't you know that you don't have to wear a mask anymore?” she asks.
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