The Four Worst Occasions For Using Zoom

(in no particular order; they are equally terrible)

1. The Virtual Zoom-Assisted Farmers Market! Such a terrible idea. The farmers hand out virtual veggies, fruit, and flowers, while an old man plays the banjo. Each time a farmer passes an item across the screen to you, she giggles “tee-hee.” I am going to stop attending these soon.
2. The Virtual Zoom-Assisted Police Arrest! The police in Santa Clara — where the typical crime is stealing a sugar-raised donut at Whole Foods — have come up with a way to sit at home all day eating confiscated donuts: a 24-hour Zoom meeting for citizens to patrol the streets for wanton criminals. When you see one, chase her (usually a little girl) with your laptop and put her on camera. The police will then send an unlucky cop to make the arrest while you read the little girl her Miranda rights. I may stop attending these meetings. I nearly sprained my ankle this morning.
3. The Virtual Roller Coaster At Virtual Disneyland! A totally annoying idea, brought to you by the Formerly Happiest Place on Earth, which is entirely empty this summer except for the pigeons crapping all over the shuttered park. For just $49.99 per person, you and your clinically depressed family can ride the Virtual Roller Coaster at Virtual Disneyland™ by attending a Zoom meeting and watching a simulated Disneyland Incredicoaster,™ right behind the seat where Mickey and Goofy always make out. Instructions for rumbling in your seats at home not included. I am beginning to regret the season tickets I bought last week.
4. The Virtual Alumni P-rade At Princeton University! Why sit at home in your old orange-and-black onesie crying over your retirement fund and your irreversibly devalued getaway in Vail? Instead, join your fellow alums this year on a platform smarter than Zoom (because we are smarter) as we March in Place™ through campus toward Prospect Avenue with the ghosts of James Madison, Aaron Burr, Woodrow Wilson, Jeff Bezos, and other dead alumni, as well as former classmates you despise even more today because so many are super-wealthy and have better-looking spouses and children with a full head of teeth. Order your place today and secure a nicely appointed make-believe suite at the historic Princeton Inn where, after you dispatch the kids to fetch ice cream on “Nassau Street,” you can have make-believe relations to rekindle your loveless marriage. Instructions on said relations not included.