Things I Wouldn’t Miss After a Zombie Apocalypse

If there’s a zombie apocalypse (or an EMP grid-down apocalypse or a pandemic collapse of civilization apocalypse or a Yellowstone Caldera kerblooey apocalypse), a lot that we take for granted will be gone. No more heading to Costco for a jumbo three-pack of salsa. No more standing in line at Starbucks to buy a $5 cup of coffee. No more watching cat videos on YouTube. All this and more will be but memories. There would be a lot of things that simply would not be available at any price. There’d be a void where once there had been all you desired.

But some of the things that were no more? I could manage. Maybe even be happy in those moments when I wasn’t smashing zombie heads with a Louisville Slugger or scrounging for twigs to feed to the rocket stove as I made squirrel stew. Some things that I wouldn't miss:

Gasoline-Powered Leaf Blowers

Loud, pointless, and obnoxious. What’s not to hate?

You’re too good for a rake? More to the point, you’re too good to rake your own yard and feel that it’s a better idea to hire some company that pays minimum wage to people who will use loud, whining, smoke-belching machines designed by orcs to wake up your neighbors at 8 a.m. on Saturday?

Incompetent Coworkers

Pre-ZombieApocalypse, you’ve got to grin and bear it when your coworker overwrites the database that took you three months to build. Post-ZA, you’ll be able to just grin, sure in the knowledge that your incompetent former coworkers are now either zombies who you could decapitate with a clean conscience, or have already been eaten by zombies. Either way, no longer your problem.

True story: Before my recent retirement, I had a coworker to whom I have had to explain, on four separate occasions, how to read and interpret the tic marks on a ruler. This means 4 and 3/16 inches.

Waiting on Hold for The Next Available Representative

Um, if your product/service worked the way it was supposed to, I wouldn’t have called your 800 number and then spent five minutes of my life that I'll never get back entering a series of cryptic 27-digit codes followed by the pound sign only to find that I can now listen to looped scratchy elevator music interspersed with assurances that my call is very important but that all of your representatives are busy assisting other pissed off customers.

People Chanting “USA! USA! USA!”

Are we the only culture so insecure that we have to chant our name to remind ourselves of how wonderful we are? I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that drunks in Switzerland rarely start chanting “Schweizerische Eidgenossenschaft! Schweizerische Eidgenossenschaft! Schweizerische Eidgenossenschaft!”

Shitcoin Pump and Dumps

When I’m hiding out from the zombies in a warehouse that used to be in the bad part of town back when towns had good parts, I will have no regrets that I didn’t invest in that ZombieCoin ICO when I had the chance.

Photos all from Pixabay