The Supreme Court just handed down a big, fat bummer without even issuing a ruling.

All the justices had to do was gavel three days of “Obamacare” hearings to a close, and hundreds of protesters and professional line-standers suddenly had to confront a question more nettlesome than the Commerce Clause:

Now what?

The party’s over, and all the protesters, who’ve had a ball for days, and all the professional line-standers, who’ve made pretty good money, have to find something else to do.

Which raises another question: What the heck does a 78-year-old guy in a giant foam justice head — he thinks it’s Justice John Paul Stevens but isn’t sure — do all day when there’s not a historic Supreme Court case to protest?

The Silver Spring resident, who goes by Moondancer, plays Santa in season. He’s got a massage sideline, plus a number of odd jobs. And he’s got a trip planned to Brazil, where he went previously for dental work because it was cheaper than in the U.S.

But for many veterans of this supremely long and colorful carnival, the everyday lives they return to are out of the ordinary.

Take Andrew Eiva, who spent about 11 hours a day outside the courthouse, working in shifts with other professional line-standers to hold spots for people who wanted a seat inside the courtroom.

On the sidewalk where he was camped out, Eiva, 63, shared his biography: He’s a former Army officer who got interested in liberation movements, started pushing in the 1980s for more American support for Afghan rebels, took down a CIA deputy director, and got written up in newspapers and books. (Just Google him.)

And now, he stands in line for people who can’t be bothered to do it themselves. Which makes perfect sense in this town.

“I made enough enemies in Washington,” he said, “to reduce myself to this.”