Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with this type of thing before. It was 2014 and medicinal marijuana had just been legalized in New York. I learned then the power, an innate skill, that I possessed. Using all my natural craftiness, I was able to secure a weed card despite any genuine afflictions to warrant its use.

I became someone else. Someone who had an applicable condition.

Absolutely flabbergasted by the ease at which this new ability came to me, I vowed to not use it unless absolutely necessary and only for good. But the development of a coronavirus vaccine and its subsequent limited release has led me to dust off the fake mustache for one last performance.

My former drug dealer once said “With great power comes great debility,” as he misquoted Sam Raimi’s Spiderman. Though there’s some truth to his words, especially now. It’s in this spirit I’ll attempt to impart my weed-card wisdom, reappropriating it so that we can all get the coronavirus vaccine and go back to sharing joints as soon as possible.

Don’t get too cute with the disease you’re pretending to have. Obviously, it has to be a qualifying condition, but it should also be believable. When I first got my weed card, I didn’t claim to have cancer or Epilepsy because it’d invite far too many follow-up questions. I aimed low: back pain, nausea, insomnia, nothing life-threatening. Follow a similar approach for the vaccine. Ensure you will fall under a high-risk demographic without putting yourself in a high-risk situation. You’re not over 65 because no one on the internet is and, despite an affinity for cardigan sweaters and thick-rimmed glasses, front-liners aren’t going to believe you are.

Base your claim in reality. Identify as a smoker, you probably are one anyway. Or say you’re overweight, it’s been a long year primarily spent inside—it’s likely not far from the truth. A good rule of thumb is that if the disease you’re claiming to have could merit a GoFundMe page, it’s too somber. Pick a new one.

Next up, but equally important: confidence. If manners maketh the man, then confidence maketh the conman. It’s your best resource in convincing a healthcare professional to surrender a vaccine. If you approach the distribution site too timidly or shyly, you may spook them off. A doctor once questioned my insomnia because I looked “remarkably well-rested.” I responded forcefully, “How dare you downplay my struggle, never in my life have I been so disrespected!” It’s the power of deflection that shitty boyfriends have been using it for generations, about time you recouped some of the benefits.

Walk into that vaccination palace like you’re the goddam Queen of Injection. This is nothing, you’ve been putting needles in your body for years, it’s why you’re high-risk: substance use and dependence.

See, you’re already improvising. You’ll be maskless on the beach in no time.