As morbid as it sounds, I love a weather forecast that empties grocery shelves. DC is at its finest when people are slightly panicked. Historically, this has only happened when snow is on the way, but this weekend’s threat of Irene yielded similar results.
This was during the blizzard. Awesome.
Having been gone for two weeks, I stopped in the grocery store Thursday night to restock, not realizing that the city was functioning at “Code Orange.”
Lines snaked from the cash registers back to the dairy section. Entire shelves were emptied; some items – milk, eggs, toilet paper, water – were consistent with blizzard shopping. But apparently when there’s a hurricane, people want to make SALADS. And eat CEREAL. Hmmm.
Ironically, there were still umbrellas for sale. And hurricane drink mix. Am I the only person who thought those would be the two must have items? Standing there, I wondered if I’d heard the radio wrong. Was Irene a hurricane, or a missile? Was I shopping for the wrong catastrophe? Just to cover bases, I picked up a DuraFlame firelog. (Not Pine Mountain. I’ve learned my lesson.)
pithypants 