What the heck, Austin? Grocery stores are closed. Gas stations are closed. Both Best Buy and Fry’s Electronics are closed. How are people supposed to survive? This isn’t a day off. It’s post-apocalypse survival training. Stock up on food, gas, and guns, because no one wants to risk being outside when The Resurrected One walks the Earth.
The only places open are prepared food distribution centers with lines stretching out the door. Inside, they’re cramming in as many people as possible. There are no menus. If you want to eat, you silently join the shuffling line of bodies as each hungry person struggles to overfill a comically tiny plate. Food is ladled out of giant steam trays which can’t be filled fast enough to keep up with the demand. You can put on your best clothes to impress the neighbors and give the affair a fancy name like Easter Sunday Brunch, but we all know it’s just a rehearsal for the post-apocalyptic food lines awaiting us all after all your long anticipated zombie lord brings destruction to the unbelievers.
I’ve lived in ten cities. Austin is one of the few where the population goes into sincere lockdown in preparation for the resurrection. Most places might shut down for a half day so concerned workers can say goodbye to their loved ones, but they’re still open long enough to make a little cash off of us infidels.
Look, if I want to prepare for the apocalypse let me do it on my own time in my own way. I don’t need a state mandated rehearsal day to remind me how awful life will be when society collapses and we have to send children foraging for eggs while the adults ritually drink blood and eat flesh in preparation for their inevitable transformation into zombies. That’s what Walking Dead viewing parties are for. You don’t need to shut down the whole darn city for Christ’s sake.