MILLENNIUM Fever was in full swing and it seemed that every man and his dog expected a cataclysm of one description or another by the time the year was out. And just to make sure that even the most logical-minded got sucked in, there was Y2K. Although steering clear of prophecies or New World Order bullshit, I had got wind of a great almighty asteroid heading straight for us. On the 29th of August 1999 to be precise.
I was quite frankly at that point where I had had the world up to my chin. I didn’t want to be in it. Not as it was. All around me what had the cheek to call itself a civilisation was ready to implode, just like all the others before it. If not now, then at some point in the not too distant future. And I almost wished it would. Get it over and done with and all that so that whoever was left could start over.
Being the over-thinker that I was, I prepared myself mentally. Assuming, of course, that I even survived it. And being the self-analyst that I was, I called this my Sarah Connor complex. Syndrome would have been more accurate but complex sounded so much better.
29 August 1999
INSPIRED ages ago by my utter lack of preparedness for life in the wilderness, I had bought Lofty Wiseman’s SAS Survival Guide and built up my ready-for-anything tobacco tin and small ready-for-anything rucksack. I had the tools, Armageddon or no Armageddon. And at least if nothing happened, I wouldn’t make a complete tit of myself.
It was a clear starry evening when a friend and I enjoyed a warm goblet of wine in front of a hot fire. With no intention of bracing myself, I had accepted her invitation to stay over and chat into the wee small hours. She had no idea of the impending asteroid strike and I didn’t discuss it. After all, without proof I didn’t want to scare the shit out of anyone. I felt no anxiety as such, just a sense that whatever was thrown at me, I would deal with it. Bring it on.
In the meantime, maybe I could anaesthetise myself a little … just not too much …
Night came and went. The next time I opened my eyes, I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.
Bollocks, we’re still here.
Copyright (c) M K MacInnes
M K MacInnes, writer 
LOL LOL LOL! Love the summation at the end… It’s said Luther used to bend over and bare his buttocks at the Devil. In your own exasperated, not to say desparate way did you do the same? KH.
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Nah. Once my initial reaction had worn off, I was genuinely happy with the outcome … Maybe I got myself all psyched up to tempt Fate into doing the very opposite. Now since putting myself through all that, I’m much more inured to all these what ifs. Two years later I had to sacrifice the tobacco tin to get on a plane – boo hoo! Never saw it again …
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“Bollocks, we’re still here.” Story of my life! Or was until one day, it was more like wonderment, more like “BOLLOCKS! I’m STILL HERE!!” It’s all in the emphasis and vocal nuance.
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That’s an awesome read! 😁 Funny because I can totally identify, and funny because it brings back memories of chopping extra wood in case there was any truth to the Y2K blither blather. lol
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Way to go!
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