I always thought Armageddon would come while I was at work.

Today I was proven right. Sort of.
It was some freaky shit, either way. And I loved it.

There were gale-force winds this morning, so I left the bike at home and drove instead, because few things suck worse than riding into a headwind, and one of those few things is riding into a gale-force headwind.

I got into the company carpark at 8.31am, which is officially 31-minutes late, but only one minute later than the time I usually get to my desk.

The radio station on my car stereo cut out just before I parked, and I couldn’t locate any others. Weird.

The lights were all off inside the building, except for the emergency lighting. I got to my department and I could tell by the darkness and lack of computer screen illumination, that there was a power cut. That and the fact a bunch of COWorkers sitting looking at dead screens said to me “Hey, there’s a power cut”.

So I thought Fuck. That. and decided to head to McChucks for breakfast.

Still couldn’t get any radio stations.

Then the first traffic light I get to is out.
OK. No biggie. Draft a big truck and slip on through safely.

Then the next one is out. And the next three after that. Jeezus. What the fuck is up?

I get to the mall and it’s deserted. The automatic doors are open, but there’s nobody home.

My first thought was Hey, there’s no one here.
Then my second thought was Heyyyy, there’s no one here, and so I helped myself to a DVD player and some leather shoes and a box of donuts.

I go for my cellphone to call D-Missus, but the network’s down.

Weird.

This is starting to feel like Independence Day, or War of the fucking Worlds, right before the aliens attack, except without those Will Smith and Tom Cruise fucktards.

I try the AM band on the radio.
After much searching, I can locate just two stations.

The first is a Chinese radio station. The other is a Christian one.

So that means either the Communists have invaded, or it’s Armageddon.

Or worse: It’s Armageddon and God is a Communist.

Boy, I didn’t see that coming.

I start to get a little scared. What kind of power cut takes out the city’s electricity, the traffic lights, the phone network, and almost all the radio stations?

I creep back to work through the five comatose traffic lights.

At work, the looting has already started. People don’t know what’s going on. The cafeteria is shut. The desperate are starting to eye-up my bottom drawer, which is full of cereal, stocked for just such an occasion. I arm myself with a staple gun and a 2x4 plank, which I collected on one of my lunchtime walks.

I look pretty mean. This was a good day to wear a leather trench coat and shit-kicker boots

I use the last of the hot water in the Zip to make some plunger coffee.
Someone has a candle going on their desk. They’ve left it unattended. I borrow it to toast a bagel.

I curse myself for predicting that Armageddon would come while I was at work, yet not being smart enough to have a radio, torch, lighter or machete on hand. They would have been handy.

But I’ve seen Rambo First Blood, episodes 1, 2 and 3 many times, and I used to love that MacGyver show, so I’m pretty sure I can make do with what I’ve got.
Rambo says the trick with bullet wounds is to pop out the bullet with a knife and then heat the knife and use it to cauterise the wound.

At least I have a knife. Although, that is how I cut my hand while slicing a frozen bagel in half. Feeling woozy…

Using the bathroom is an experience. It’s darker than before that bit back in time where God saw that it was Good.
You know how inaccurate guys can be, even when they can see the toilet? Well, the floor’s wet and sticky beneath my boots.
Ewwww….

I call D-Missus on the landline. She’s freaking out because the TV isn’t going and she can’t make herself a cup of tea.

Then the emergency lighting cuts out and the phone lines go down.

Management is not doing a very good job of keeping us informed. A thousand employees are in the dark in more ways than one.

After three hours, we learn that there’s been a major power cut and 700,000 people, and one D-Man, are affected.
All but two of the city’s police stations have been forced to shut down.
There are 300 dead traffic lights, and only five of them are being controlled by police pointsmen.

There is no idea of when power will be back on.

So I thought Fuck. That.

I leave a note saying D-Man has gone looting and make like a Russian and Fuckoffski.

There are eight unmanned traffic lights between work and my home. I find the trick is to blast your horn and approach them at speed with your headlights flashing and people will give way. Or get out of the way.

At home, my brother-in-law and his pregnant girlfriend are taking refuge.

I blow the dust off the Y2K survival kit and crack it open.
Out come the gas cookers.

D-Missus gets her cup of tea.

We have bacon, eggs, hash browns and toast for lunch.

We listen to the police scanner and have a good laugh about the people trapped in crowded elevators. Or the people who have run out of gas, and can’t fill up at petrol stations, because they are out of action as well.

We discuss which stores we’d like to loot.

It was a great day.

Anarchy.

People realising they were utterly powerless without power.

I was kind of sad when the electricity came back on 7-and-a-half hours later.

I enjoyed being the leader of a post-Apocalyptic tribe.

It was like one of my favourite fantasies had finally come true. Except minus the Ewok tree huts. And Princess Leia.

It made me… moist.