As the world has fallen to pieces, you would think there would be less time to focus on bigotry, yet there exists a man whose existence is as perplexing as it is irritating. Meet Bob Harkins, the most ungrateful survivor — a man who keeps getting saved by Black and Brown people. It’s almost like a cosmic joke, with a dash of irony and a sprinkle of karma, as Bob’s life unfolds in the most inconvenient, yet amusing way possible.
The apocalypse was supposed to be a great equalizer, a situation where the playing field was leveled, and only the fittest would endure. But somehow, Bob Harkins manages to defy this natural order. In the bleakest of circumstances, he attracts both trouble and rescuers like a moth to a flame. But here’s the catch: Bob absolutely cannot stand any of them.
It all began when Bob found himself in the middle of a vicious battle with a group of marauders. Just when it seemed like the end was nigh, an unlikely savior arrived on the scene — his now-deceased son’s former science teacher, Mr. Warren. Yes, that same Mr. Warren who had driven Bob to the brink of insanity because of his son coming home with facts about science and evolution that, according to Bob, ‘always had some gobbledygook about Black people!’ Warren, with his snappy ties and infuriatingly calm tone, & unnecessarily broad shoulders swooped in like a guardian angel, dispatching the marauders with ruthless efficiency.
Bob couldn’t believe his luck, but instead of gratitude, he couldn’t help but mutter sarcastic comments under his breath. “Oh, great,” he groaned. “Just what I needed, more of your ‘brilliant’ leadership. You gonna give a speech about dreams, mountaintops, or marching to rub it in?” It’s being reported to the Courier that Warren’s response was somewhere along the lines of, “Feel free to march your ungrateful ass back into that marauder camp. I’m going to lunch.”
Then there was the time when Bob found himself trapped in a desolate wasteland pit trap, running out of water and nursing a twisted ankle. Just as he started to get lightheaded and resigned himself to his fate, who should come to his rescue but his “irritating” Hispanic neighbor, Anita. This was the same Anita who used to play loud music on Saturdays and, to his chagrin, cook tamales that he ‘had to smell.’
Anita threw down a bottle of water and a rope tied to her jeep’s wench. Bob’s response? “Thanks, Anita. I could smell the tamales before you got here. Next time cook a steak before you rescue someone.” When asked for comment, Anita’s response to the Courier was, “I should have tossed his racist ass back in there and let the vultures make beef jerky out of him.”
In talking to Bob, it’s clear he assumed all the ethnic minorities in this corner of the world couldn’t possibly survive all the catastrophes that have fallen upon society. He despises the situation, he hates the people that come to his rescue time and again, and he loathes the fact that he keeps getting saved when he’s positive that he’s much better equipped to survive the fall of society than ‘those people,’ thank you very much. Case in point, Bob forced the Courier into a tour of his “preparedness bunker” — which, at the time of this article, had been successfully ransacked and nearly emptied no less than four times by a group comprised of approximately 90–93% white survivalist men that call themselves, “Bunker Busters.”
While some might say that Bob is a living testament to the notion that no good deed goes unpunished, his persistent ungratefulness is a spectacle in itself. The universe is clearly holding its gut, rolling on the floor, breathless with laughter at Bob’s existence. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.
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[DISCLAIMER: This article is a work of fiction and satire. Any resemblance to real events or persons is purely coincidental.]
