This past weekend, the entire eastern seaboard was paralyzed in the face of that bitch Irene. In anticipation of this “worst-storm-to-ever-ever-ever-hit-the-northeast”, railways and airports were shut down, groceries were hoarded, windows were boarded up, and beer was stockpiled. The rain was scheduled to start Saturday afternoon and the hurricane would hit south Jersey sometime in the middle of the night. And so the scheduling of my weekend began…
Author’s note 2/16/17: Enjoy one of my “vintage” posts, from the time when I purchased this blog URL but never actually consistently wrote. I didn’t have the heart to use the WordPress “Start Over” feature and lose these little time capsules from when I was husbandless and childless and wish now I could tell myself to stop drinking so much beer because post-baby me would have so much trouble losing that beer pooch.
The first of two bridal showers I was scheduled to attend on Saturday was cancelled the day before, freeing up my Saturday morning. I ventured out to the grocery stores for the essentials (avocados and pizza sauce), as I already had quite a healthy stock pile built from months of over-buying sale items like pasta and tuna fish. It was clear that panic had already set in amongst the people of my town, as this is what I found when I decided I would maybe like to buy a bag of pre-made salad:
So I bought my few little items and made my way out to the Home Depot. It was here that I was looking for gutter extenders to help ward off basement flooding: foolish me to think such supplies would still remain, since everyone else was clearly preparing for the apocalypse. People were at the point of buying whole lengths of gutter, presumably planning on cutting them into extension pieces (although I like to imagine that at least one of those people was actually going to try to reinstall all new gutters in the early afternoon, hours before the arrival of a hurricane). I got myself out of there and decided I would make my own gutter extenders out of heavy plastic sheeting and duct tape. Behold!
At this point it was time to get myself over to the second bridal shower, which remained brazenly un-postponed in the face of the monstrous storm that was bearing down upon us. Yeah, it just rained. I mean it rained a lot, but it was still just rain. The weakest members of society were already holed up in their homes, crouched in their forts made of bottled water and preserved meats, can openers strung around their necks like tribal jewelry, triple-A batteries clinking together in every pocket and orifice available. The rest of us partied. Although near the end of the party it became pretty clear that maybe it WAS time to get home and off the roads.
I made two final stops: my local for a case of Victory Headwaters Pale Ale, previously reviewed in a BEERFLASH!, and Liz and Brian’s house to pick up their dog Holly for the night while they were at a wedding. It was 6:30 pm, the rain was coming down in buckets, and my night was just beginning.