It did not.
At every table I purposefully introduced myself thus;
“Welcome. I am Devon. As opposed to what you may have heard, we will be serving dinner throughout the duration of the rapture.”
If further silence pursued;
“…want to get lit up?”
Oddly enough, people bit. Old ladies got cocktails, young men got draft beers, and middle-aged people drained the reserves of Campari and soda water. With their parents in tow.
It led me to wonder--do religious deadlines make an important enough sales opportunity for hard working service staff?
It probably helped when Y2K was a huge deal. It probably will help me for the coming 2012 debacle.
The rapture became a point of humor at every opportunity.
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The amount of impious mockery I was making on a day when the earth was predicted to end probably wasn’t smart. If for some reason the rapture were to happen, I was doing enough damage to say to the powers that be “please strike me down first.”
I was actually a bit relieved when the power didn’t fail and the earth didn’t start quaking at my feet at 6pm.
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