LA riots
I was at work when the Los Angeles riots started. With a good view over the city, we watched as fire after fire rose up. We were transfixed by the TV news coverage and the approaching smoke. Eventually it crossed my mind that I should make the drive across town to my safe seaside community. The odds of getting more work done that day were slim and it didn't make any sense to watch the fires spread fully across my escape route.
I got near to home and got bogged down in traffic. Despite all previous evidence to the contrary, I decided I was resourceful. I turned off the main route and took the sides streets. Only when I was fully in the Oakwood section of Venice did I remember that, at the time, the highest murder rate in the city was among the gangs in the Oakwood section of Venice. I had turned into a labyrinth of narrow streets as a voluntary sacrifice to the Minotaur of racial/class hatred. Somehow I scrambled out of there. Not heroically, the riots never did spread there as far as I recall.
As I drove the short highway to my area, I saw long lines of highway patrol cars on each side, waiting to block trouble. I was incensed that they weren't off stopping the violence but were, instead, safeguarding one well to do area that had no signs of violence. Despite my political ire, I was grinning broadly in relief that the social injustice was guarding my back.
I realized I had no food and it might be days before things were back in order, so I went to the store. It was closed, the only thing open was a pizza place. Three hours after ordering, I got my emergency supply pizza and waited the civil unrest out in comfort.
All of this made me realize that when the real apocalypse comes, I'm mercifully and deservedly going to be one of the first to die.
(thatguyjoe, Tue 19 Jun 2012, 19:12, 1 reply)

Good
(MayorBoris, Wed 20 Jun 2012, 8:15, closed)