Walking anywhere around town during the purple tier around 10 pm is as if it was 2 am a year ago. Instead of revelers being cheerfully shoved to the sidewalk, the sidewalk is now being cleaned, chairs and heaters being dragged in. My dog loves to participate in the new version of the late-night menu, the “floor menu”, no longer restricted to just whatever can be made in the fryer. Having to get people off-premise by 10 pm if you are following the law results in some things being left behind, much to my dog’s delight.
Every park’s lights shut off at a different time depending on how many years ago their timer was set, in the last month, 10 pm, six months ago, 9:57, six years ago 9–10:50–15. Timers drift just as human time does, but modern technology has allowed us to become precise, to the second, no longer can you purposely set a clock ahead 10 minutes to hack the last call in drunk brains. It’s now down to a precise time that is incredibly imprecisely set by a local government yet expected to be followed perfectly.
If you are in the right neighborhood, you end up with a different clock; as if we were in Hawaii; as if we had a time machine; as if we were a functional country; or as if Frisco never ended.