THE END [[#Wattys2020]]

DAY 3

Chapter 83: A Long Walk Home

Brian O'Connell (Best Western Plus, Las Vegas, Nevada)

The sun had set without me ever even seeing it. The day had come to an end just as unspectacularly as the world had. Midnight was quickly approaching, and I found myself the bar's sole remaining survivor. In the end, though, there was no rising up against the man, no overthrowing the establishment, no plans of a better utopian future. Nor did we take to the streets in a drunken stupor flipping cars and burning trash cans. My comrades-in-arms and I didn't lay waste to the surrounding neighborhoods or break even a single window. I never even saw my posse again... We simply went our separate ways, everyone, one by one, stepping foot out of the bar and into the first day (a 'really' bright day) of a new world.

The country was fucked, that much was obvious. During the night, the nation had transcended from a fucked-up situation, manifested by decades of fucked-up situations, atop even fucked upper situations... learned a lot at Bourbon's Sports Bar!

Finding myself in an abandoned bar, after helping myself to 'several' to-go drinks, I, very unspectacularly and uneventfully, turned off the big screen TVs and followed suit, making my way down the street to my hotel. Surprisingly, there was actually a front desk clerk on duty behind the desk. He was, very nonchalantly, just sitting there, head propped up on one arm, arm propped up on the front desk, tuned in to some article out of what appeared to be a real page turner taken from one of the hotel lounge coffee tables. Reading... what we'll resort to without Internet!

The lobby doors were wide open and despite the excessive amounts of natural light pouring in, every light in the place was on. I walked past the guy without him even noticing, went directly to the elevator and thumbed the 'up' arrow.

Waiting, I half expected the elevator doors to open to a dark hole, with the elevator stuck somewhere above. Not really sure why. Maybe it was because of the false sense of vertical mobility fragility in hotels when the power goes out that every single action movie has ever instilled in me. Maybe it was just self-loathing, wishful thinking. But the lift doors opened with a ding without incident, waking the clerk from his Better Homes & Gardens, Decking Edition daze.

"Good afternoon, Mr. O'Connell," the clerk cried out.

"Dude, don't you have somewhere better to be?"

"Not for another three hours, sir. My shift ends at 6:30."

How are people so trained in their mediocre lives, that amidst a crisis as severe as this one, they'd actually consciously 'choose' to continue with their self-subjugated slavery, rather than run amok! I mean, the kid isn't an ambulance driver, he's not an electric pole lineman.... In another week, when payday comes, there won't be anyone around to give him what he's owed! And even if there was, there'd be no way to cash the check anyway and nothing to spend it on. I don't get it.

"You know the country's at war, right?" I asked.

"I heard New York was attacked." the kid replied nonchalantly. I walked back to the front desk.

"Why are you still here, then?? Go home, go be with your girlfriend, go be with your boyfriend, rob a bank, rob a cop, steal a car, steal some dish soap... do something!"

...

...

He just sat there staring at me unphased, like I was crazy... I may be crazy.

"I don't get off 'til 6:30 sir."

...

...

"We were nuked, and you 'don't get off 'til 6:30'."