End Days in Brooklyn

So what’s all this I hear about the world coming to an end tomorrow? Personally, I find the timing of this rather inconvenient. I have a hair salon appointment in a couple of weeks and two DVDs I haven’t watched yet. So, um, no. No to Armageddon 😛

But if the world does end on Saturday then that means today was our last full living day on earth. And what did I do? I woke up, ate a banana, took a shower, and rode the number 3 subway to Brooklyn Heights for a private art modeling job. I bought a truly awful cup of coffee from a shitty deli but drank it anyway. I opened up my umbrella when it started to rain. I gave directions to some woman who couldn’t find Henry Street. I took the battery out of my Blackberry and rebooted because it froze up. I was rudely shoved on the stairs in Penn Station during the afternoon commuter madness. I rode the train back to Queens, stopped off at the grocery store to buy onions and peppers, and came home. That’s my last freaking day. Except for the art modeling session which went great, the rest of it is pretty lame. Lamer than usual in fact.

So now I’m thinking about how I would spend my last day on earth if I could design it to my liking, Hmm . . . it’s tough! I’m really stumped. What would you do?

Edvard Munch’s The Scream:

13 thoughts on “End Days in Brooklyn

  1. I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep and miss everything.

  2. Well, one thing mine would involve is raising a glass of John Jameson and saying: “We had a good run!”

  3. Bill says:

    No, no — today is supposed to be The Rapture — when all the saintly people are whisked off to heaven — leaving everyone else to fight Armagedon. I hang out mostly with artists — so I don’t think my friends are going anywhere yet. But, just in case, I’m going to a portrait drawing/painting session this P.M. (assuming I’m still here then) and I’ve already begun to eat a lot of dark chocolate.

    • artmodel says:

      Bill,

      Thanks for clarifying. I should have riffed on the “Rapture” and those lucky ones who get whisked away 😆

      You and I spent our time doing the same thing. I was posing for painting classes all day. During the breaks the artists and I were all having a good chuckle over Judgement Day.

      Your dark chocolate indulgence sounds great, by the way! Thanks for your comments.

      Claudia

  4. Gavin says:

    I’ll be ok. A German philosopher once said, when asked where he would like to be when the world ends, “England, because everything happens a hundred years later there”. And where I live is a particularly slow part of England, Ocasionally we still see Spitfires flying overhead, I’m not sure if they’re real or just a temporal distortion caused by the slow pace of life, but either way I don’t think the Apocalypse will reach Cumbria anytime soon.

    • artmodel says:

      Gavin,

      That is so funny about England and “100 years later”! Looks like we’re all still here. Those Rapture people must feel terribly disappointed that their earthly lives will go on.

      Thanks for your comments.

      Claudia

  5. I was just hanging out with a friend of mine yesterday who said, “You know, if the rapture actually happened, I wouldn’t hear about it for *weeks* – I don’t think I know anyone who would get raptured up.” On the last day, I’d probably do something similar to what I do every day; I really like how I live. Your last day sounds pretty good too, Claudia.

    • artmodel says:

      Daniel,

      Yes, maybe the Rapturers got swooped up! Who’s to say it didn’t actually happen, right? 😆 Although I believe those of us who were “left behind” are supposed to be battling the Apocalypse down here, fighting zombies or some shit.

      Claudia

  6. Brian says:

    Actually, I heard the Rapture DID happen. Since I’m still here, I guess it means I’m really screwed…as is everyone else reading this comment! You know, Claudia, I always felt we had alot in common 🙂

  7. Stephen says:

    May I tell a short story that all the Afrikaans people in the Cape know?

    In the little town of Piketberg, one night the town drunk took a short cut through the graveyard and stumbled inebriated into an open grave where he passed out. Late the next day he awoke at the bottom of a grave with the sun in his face and decided he had died and was now being called forth for the rapture. He scrambled to the mouth of the grave looked around at the quiet grave yard and shouted “Swak Piketberg” (“Swak” means “Fail, bad, lazy, to be jeered and pitied all in one).

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