Smorgasburg: Mr. FIPS goes to Williamsburg


Phew! Thank god that Rapture thing didn't happen on Saturday, huh? Giant earthquakes & hellfire & shit? Not getting to see the how the first season of The Killing turns out? No thanks, Jebus.
On the upside, once word got out that God was going to pluck up all the good Christians & unleash pain on the rest of us, from that point on everything in my world took on a mocking, "this may be the last time" tone. For those like me who tend to look at everything through atheist-framed, cynic-colored glasses, the Rapture was pure comedy gold. After all, it's fun to play pretend.
Case in point: last week I told Erica that my Park Slope End of Days meal would be "as many jerk BBQ chicken littles from Atomic Wings as possible & 7-8 growlers of beer from Bierkraft." I wasn't lying when I said that. If the Rapture was actually going down, that’s what I'd go for in Park Slope.
Since I was fairly certain that it was going to be a Rapture-free Saturday, I instead met up with a friend in Williamsburg for the opening of the Brooklyn Flea's questionably-named Smorgasburg food market. Here, I'd assemble my cynical, mocktastic End of Days meal. Also, I figured that on the off chance that the Rapture actually did happen, going to Williamsburg first would help ease me into it.