As the end nears, I am making preparations. I am a city girl, so I do not have the luxury of finding a secure location on my private land where I can dig a hole and line it with canned foods and stuffed animals. In order to survive, I know that I will have to join a group. Though I have friends and family and a significant other in this pre-apocalyptic world, most of them live far enough away that I worry I won’t be able to get to them. And what if my boyfriend dies, because he is busy trying to get his collectibles out of the house? He has discussed creating several tiers of go-bags. The Go Bag - the one that actually contains the list of things experts say you will need to have if you must evacuate. And then there is the Second Go Bag, and the Third Go Bin, and the Fourth and Fifth Go Suitcases and of course all the Unpackaged Go Things loose in the house that will be worth taking, which he’ll need to round up. He’ll be dead while I wait in the car. By that time, the highways will be jammed and I’ll have to set out on foot.
Wandering the streets of Silver Lake, I will look for someone to take me in. There are many comedians and TV writers in my neighborhood. Maybe they will recognize me and let me join, but there is no guarantee. According to social media, they have had many parties and brunches without me. This indicates that they hate me, deeply. Why would they want to spend the end of the world with someone they despise? Even if I happen upon a group of acquaintances that does not hate me, I will admit, I can be a little much. I know this, because I keep a file in the back of my head of all the times I overshared or was too rigid or no fun or just came up short in a room full of media darlings. Surely they will remember these instances and decide that, even though I seem nice, I will just hold the group back. No hard feelings.
If I approach a group of strangers, I know that I won’t have much time to make my case. At first glance, they aren’t going to see any desirable qualities in me. No muscle mass, no steely gaze, zero ninja swords, no truck filled with La Croix, the noticeable absence of a tiger on a leash. They’re just going to see someone who already needs to stop for a stretch because her glute is cramping. Bottom line: I’m going to have to talk fast.
I suspect that the best way to get into a great survival group is to bring something to the table that everyone else needs but is something that only I can provide. For that reason, instead of stockpiling guns, I am stockpiling niche skills. So here it is:
My Application to Be in Your Group at The End of The World
Name: Sara Schaefer
Height: 5’10”
Athletic Abilities: None
Weapons: None
Medical Skills: None
Hunting: No
Animal Husbandry: Gross
Ties to Nearby Celebrities with Escape Helicopters: I met Justin Timberlake once
Relevant Survival Skills:
Cross Stitch: I can create beautiful images with thread by making tiny X’s over and over again on fabric. This will be useful when we start decorating the compound.
Fear: I am intensely afraid of most things, which may sound like a negative, but it’s actually a positive. My radar for danger is very sensitive. I’m not going to let the group do anything stupid, like walk into a spider web, or do a deal with a sociopathic motorcycle gang who plans to murder us as soon as the exchange is over.
Internal GPS: I am very good with direction. Even amid all the rubble and lack of Google Maps, I will be able to find the exact location of where the Whole Foods used to be.
Smell: I have a strong sense of smell. I will be able to tell if someone’s foot is infected, figure out who’s been sneaking bites of the rationed chocolate, and detect any feral labradoodles in the area.
Entertainment: Let’s not forget that my profession before all this started was comedy. Now don’t get any ideas: this doesn’t mean I’m going to bring the funny non-stop while we hike across the desert. I’ll probably be very grumpy most of the day. But at night, around the propane tank, I will come alive. I’ll produce a weekly talent show and make sure it never runs over 90 minutes. Eventually, I’ll form a production company and start taking pitches from other members of the group. I will be looking for authentic stories from underrepresented voices, and also ideas for reboots of major motion pictures from the Before Time. In the group’s newspaper, I’ll be profiled as the next Queen of Comedy. I’ll perform a new hour of stand up every year that will become increasingly lazy, but the group won’t notice because of my legendary status.
Love: One essential supply that I’m never going to run out of is love. I feel like I have an infinite amount of it, even for people who have wronged me. It’s actually really annoying sometimes, as I am known to spend years pining over enemies who once stabbed me in the heart, hoping they’ll change one day and we could somehow reconcile and be friends. I worked on that a lot with my therapist in the Before Time, learning to accept that some people are just simply shitty and aren’t capable of loving you back. Sometimes you have to just let them go, like a fully stocked grocery store surrounded by radioactive flood waters. And at the end of the day, isn’t the trick figuring out how to give yourself some of that love you so badly want to give to others? Was it not Whitney Houston who once said, “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all”? Anyway, we can get into it more once we get on the road.
Gardening: I can grow food from seeds, and I have a bunch of seed packets in my Go Bag. “Well, why didn’t you mention this first?” you ask. Well, because I didn’t want to over-promise. Once I’m declared The Farmer of the group, all of that shit is now on my shoulders. What if the sun is blocked by ash clouds? Suddenly that’s my problem? What if there’s not enough clean rainwater to irrigate the plants? You expect me to somehow fix that? Where are all the bees, Sara? I don’t know guys, we did the Bee Dance eight times last full moon and they still haven’t returned. What the fuck do you people want from me?
Indigo Girls Catalogue: I know it well, even the harmonies.
Thank you for your consideration. I know I lack many basic survival skills, but I am a fast learner, and, if given the opportunity, I will become a vital member of this team.
Sincerely,
Sara Schaefer