Humanity was waxing: both in its existence and verbally to other human members of humanity. Occasionally, humanity verbally waxed about their waxing to the non-verbal non-members of humanity they controlled; it was unappreciated. Humanity learned to control a lot of its surroundings - plants, animals, atoms. The people that comprised humanity took combinations of these controlled atoms in vibrantly colored shapes, called pills, for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they used plants for the same reasons. The rarely used animals the reasons because large swaths of humanity declared these animals to be waning. Those prescribed pills mostly used them; some did not. The unused pills mostly got flushed down the toilet.
Since the conception of these pills and subsequently indoor plumbing, there has existed a branch, a very tiny branch, of the government with the sole purpose of collecting all these flushed atoms. The discarded pills are collected in great big vats by the water company. The vats are loaded on to great big trucks that travel great big distances. The trucks arrive from around the country in Alepecco where the pills are dumped into great big piles eclipsing metallic, whispering sand. As the piles grew, time passed. When the humans weren’t dumping pills in the desert, they invented things: things like televisions and microwaves and the internet and remotes to control all these things. Most of these things were also sent to other great, big piles. But only the pills and the internet led to Alepecco.
Joseph Alepecco had the internet, like a number of people. And like the number of people who had access to it, Joseph Alepecco searched his name on the internet. He usually only looked for articles and results related to himself. On a specific day in question, Joseph Alepecco decided to care what the other Joseph Alepeccos were up to. Four hours, 6 beers, and 67 “next page” clicks later, Joseph Alepecco was reading the obituaries of Joseph Markstein who was born in Alepecco and died in Chicago. He was excited. There was a town named after him - well not him exactly. They shared the name. His vacation idea sprouted, he began planning a trip to Alepecco, requested two weeks of vacation time, and began packing.
He drove for nearly 20 hours straight, existing on terrifyingly strong coffee. When he finally pulled up to his hotel in Alepecco, he was simultaneously exhausted and high-strung. The whole of the town was 3 blocks by 3 blocks. The town, hamlet maybe he thought, looked as if every piece of their community had been hand selected and designed by a team of Elite fashion designers. This village-town-hamlet-city seemed to be locked in its ascent. Joseph Alepecco drove his car to the stucco and marble valet stand. Velvet curtains capped the end of the stand. The teenager looked very confused by the size of his car.
“Uh, can I help you?” the kid asked.
“I have a reservation here. Is this the valet?”
“Yeah, man. I’m the valet. We don’t get many… that’s a car, right?” asked the kid. Joseph Alepecco nodded. “Drives kinda like a rig? I’ve never driven a regular car before.”
Joseph Alepecco nodded again, slightly more confused and said, “What if you just show me where to park and I’ll park it? I’ll still tip you.”
“Sounds good to me sir. You can park it right where it is,” said the kid. The kid had gold cufflinks that jingled as he shook his hand, waiting for the promised money. His perfectly tailored uniform was ripped from the pages of a magazine more trend-setting than Joseph Alepecco had ever seen.
The kid ripped off the bottom half of a ticket, handed it to Joseph Alepecco. The bottom half of the ticket read 001 in fresh, new type, and was traded for a $5 bill. There was an ad on the back of the ticket that read “Blue or Red. The Best Steaks in the World” with the word “in” emphasized in very large bold type. The valet held the door open. Joseph Alepecco stepped into a luxurious showroom that seemed confused and was actually functioning as a hotel lobby. Everything was coordinated and seemed to be staged. There was a present fear that one shouldn’t man handle the wears in the form of a statuesque security guard. A three story chandelier cut from the second floor all the way to the basement swimming pool behind the guardian.
Joseph Alepecco approached the front desk and set his bag down.
“Hello, Mr. Alepecco!” said the woman behind the front desk. “Welcome to Alepecco.”
Joseph Alepecco was taken aback slightly that this woman knew his name. A tiny plaque behind the counter read “This platinum brocade wallpaper was saved from Teddy Roosevelt’s Westward Summer Home during the Slow Fire of 1862.”
“Oh sorry. I recognized you because I didn’t recognize you, I forget that can be a little off putting. The only customers we get in here are repeats. We haven’t had a fresh face in ohhh…” she looked behind her shoulder at a sign above the wallpaper plaque that said 397, “...397 days.”
She hit a button next to the computer and the sign whooshed back to zero. Her hand slid back to the computer and began the check-in process.
“We just get the same 143 truck drivers here over and over and over and over.” she continued.
“You’ve only seen the same 143 people in 397 days?” Joseph Alepecco asked while she was clicking his hotel room into existence.
“Well, in the hotel, yeah. We get 143 different truckers running their routes. I’ve see more than 143 people, that doesn’t include anyone in town..”
“Oh. What do you recommend I do while I’m here? I’m on vacation.”
“I can give you a tour tomorrow morning. The tours are complimentary, but you should definitely have dinner at Blue or Red tonight. It’s the best steak place in the world.”
The front desk woman handed Joseph Alepecco his key, an actual key inlaid with pearl and made of cast iron. A bellboy had silently picked up the vacation bag and ushered him into the elevator. As the two exited and walked the hallway, the bellboy offered his recommendation for his visit. He repeated the exact same offer as the woman at the front desk: have dinner at Blue or Red because it’s the best steak place in the world. But neither of them had the same emphasis as the ticket.
Waiting for his tour guide to arrive the next morning, Joseph Alepecco sat in the hotel bar absentmindedly stirring his coffee, lost in thought. The lobby and the bar were just as crowded as when he arrived the previous night; there were a few fashionable people milling about who all seemed to know each other. Thirty-five stirs and five sips later, the woman walked up to Joseph Alepecco with a to-go coffee cup in hand, looking chipper.
“Morning,” she sang. “Did you sleep well?”
“I think that was the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever slept on. And thank you for the dinner recommendation. The Penicillin Peppercorn was amazing.”
“Excellent choice,” she paused. “Are you ready to go? I’m Lucille, by the way.”
“And I’m Joseph Alepecco,” said Joseph Alepecco. “Oh. You already knew that.” They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment.
Lucille waved bye to the bartender and Joseph Alepecco slid off the bar stool. They walked out onto the stoop of the hotel, down 5 steps of marble, and onto the warm, sunny sidewalk. His car was still parked out front at the hotel. It had been lightly dusted with rose sand. They turned west and walked half a block. Lucille said hi to everyone she knew - which was everyone.
The building they stood in front of was 16 stories high. Joseph Alepecco looked back east. All of the buildings got shorter and shorter as they radiated out until, two blocks away, the corner ended abruptly with the 1 story Blue or Red steakhouse. The city descended the same way in all directions, creating an oasis of civilization in the desert.
“So this big building is the headquarters for Landpill Corp. Over there is the grocery store, down there is the night club, over there is our international restaurant. They bring in a celebrity chef every month to do a new style of cuisine. You should definitely try that while you’re here.” Lucille pointed her way through the landmarks.
“How many people live here?” questioned Joseph Alepecco.
“Uh. On and off… maybe about 1,000,” she replied quickly, not wanting to lose her momentum of the tour. “Over there is the movie theatre. That’s connected to the mall which is next to Mary Madeline’s Home Baked Baked Goods. We’ll stop there for lunch.”
The two of them began walking towards Mary Madeline’s. He was still looking around stopping to stare down the alleys and road they passed. The sun glistened off the metal and glass of the buildings.
“So if you’re from here, have you always lived here? I mean you never left or anything?” asked Joseph Alepecco.
“I left. I have 2 degrees in biology from Michigan and Colombia. I’m finishing my Ph.D.”
“But you came back?”
“Oh yeah. I have 2 degrees in biology. This is the weirdest ecosystem I’ve ever seen. I haven’t come across anything like it so I’m working on my dissertation on the differences between animal behavior in Alepecco compared to other locations.”
They turned into the patio of the home baked baked goods lunch location. Inside, Joseph Alepecco ordered a Chicken Pesto Croissant with Xanayoise. Lucille got the Mixed Greens, Eggs and Ham Salad. They went back outside to a table with a fringed umbrella and waited for their food to be grilled into existence.
“Is everything here named after pills?” he asked.
“It’s the industry that keeps us going. It’s like the town theme. As a thank you for keeping us all employed,” shrugged Lucille.
“But there isn’t really any Xanax in the mayo? It’s just a themed name, right?”
“As far as I know.”