What do you do when the world is about to end in three weeks, two days and seven hours? Do you take that crash course in bungee jumping you’ve always fancied? Buzz off on a luxury holiday to the Maldives? Finally sort out your underwear drawer? Well, what do you think? Because it’s really happening you know. I saw it on The One Show. And that's the BBC isn’t it? So it must be true. They were interviewing this eminent scientist and he explained it. It’s all to do with atmospheric disturbance, the disintegration of asteroids and the speed of light. Or something like that. I didn’t understand the details. But the general drift was pretty clear.
It’s quite irreversible, he said. Nothing can be done now. This Armageddon we’ve been threatened with for decades has finally come. I still can’t believe I’m never going to know who wins ‘Strictly’!
My mate, Ellie plans to eat and drink herself to death. She got five crates of Pinot Grigio delivered from Amazon Prime the other day. She almost went for some really posh stuff from Laithwaites but the delivery charge was a scandal.
Anyway, she reckons junk food and booze are the way to go. No more dieting and healthy food for her, she says.
Now me, I’ve opted for shopping. You recall that ‘obscene’ amount of money Julia Roberts spent on Rodeo Drive? Well, that was me the other day. I got the train down to London and hit the place like a typhoon in a toyshop. Maxed out all my credit cards. Knightsbridge. Regent Street. You name it, I did the lot.
I even indulged in a spot of shoplifting. Well, I’ve never tried it before and they say new experiences broaden the mind, don’t they? I was in John Lewis and shoved a handful of 100% pure silk knickers inside my coat. It felt soooo good! I didn’t get away with it though. Some officious store detective guy grabbed me on the way out. I’m threatened with prosecution and dire consequences. But what the heck!
The cops kept the knickers too, unfortunately. Evidence, they said. There was a really lovely WPC though, red hair and terrible acne scars, poor thing. She winked at me and pushed one pair into my coat pocket while her po-faced colleague was engaged in a pompous exchange of opinions with the horrible store detective.
‘Enjoy them,’ she said. ‘I doubt the John Lewis Empire will collapse over a few pairs of silk panties. And don’t worry,’ she added, ‘it’ll never come to court.’
Well, I knew that, but it was kind of her to say so, wasn’t it?
Of course, there are some who say it isn’t going to happen. The end of the world, I mean. Some say it’s all a scam. The government are behind it. They want us all to go on a spending spree to boost the economy. Well, that’s what they are saying.
And conspiracy theories! Don’t talk to me about them. They’re flying around on social media like pigeons round Nelson’s Column. I’m not really sure who is supposed to be conspiring to do what. But you know what social media is like.
Anyway, it’s getting nearer every day.
Another of my friends, Sharda, has her own views on things. Her family is from India originally and her mum and dad are both doctors for the NHS. But Sharda doesn’t hold with western medicine. Says it’s mechanistic and barbaric. She’s working in TK Max at the moment while she decides what she wants to do. The important thing, she says, is to keep your Chakras properly balanced. For health, I mean. And she plans to do lots of yoga to maintain her inner peace. Well, it’s as good a plan as any.
My friend Polly is decorating her flat. She’s been meaning to for ages, she says. She has terrible issues with procrastination and wants to overcome them while there’s still time. Though there isn’t much.
Now Natasha, she’s having another go at internet dating. She’s never had any luck before. The guys she meets are always complete tossers. But she says she wants one last stab at it. She feels like she’s missed out on a lasting relationship. Is it possible to find a soulmate for life in less than two weeks, I wonder? Who knows? Good luck to her, I say.
It’s getting really close now. The end, I mean. There are great big posters all over the place, warning people to stay indoors on Friday evening. That’s when it happens. It’ll be safer, they say. That honestly doesn’t make any sense to me though. I think it’s completely bonkers. I mean, will we be less dead if we stay inside?
Now that Friday’s finally here, it just doesn’t seem real. I keep waiting for someone to jump out and shout that it’s all a daft April fool’s joke. Even if it is November. But there’s less than an hour to go now. It’s like waiting for midnight on New Year’s Eve, except not so much fun if I’m honest. Quite scary really.
We’re all here in Polly’s flat over Costa Coffee on the High Street. There’s me, Natasha, Sharda and Ellie. And Ritchie’s here too. He works with Nat in the bank. He’s gay and we all love him to bits. He hates football. And lager. He’s one of the girls really, so he had to be here with us tonight.
Polly’s painted her living room a lovely shade of duck egg blue. It looks great. She’s ordered new Roman Blinds online too, but they haven’t come yet. I don’t suppose they will now.
We lost the power ages ago. But Nat brought round a load of LED candles she got on Amazon, so we’re OK. And they are so much safer than the wax kind. Nat says they’re a terrible fire hazard.
We’re all feeling a bit shaky, if I’m honest. I’m wearing my new frock from Harvey Nicks and my red patent, Jimmy Choo shoes with the six inch stilettos. And the silk knickers of course. But somehow I don’t feel too great.
In fact we are all holding hands in a circle. Ellie can’t stop crying. She’s such a wimp. She reckons she’s allergic to this new mascara she bought, but none of us is fooled. I feel a bit sick myself. Maybe I drank too much Pinot. Ellie said we should finish it all. It seemed a shame to waste it.
Hey, did I ever tell you… ?