The problem with the apocalypse was there was no single event.
You couldn’t say, “where were you when . . ..” The day the asteroid hit. The day they nuked Milan. The towers fell. They shot JR. Or Kennedy. Our apocalypse was a creeping end. Like zombies, or carpet beetles.
Instead, we talked about the clowns .
Tonight Julie is on about the fucking clowns. I hated the clowns. We all hated the clowns. But it’s done, I mean, why do we have to keep hashing it over?
“And do you remember her book? Going Maverick? Do you remember that?”