Notes from the hurricane
Oct. 3rd, 2002 06:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sophiaserpentiaAttn: Tim, Dee, and anyone else who lives with me.
The next time we run out of tortillas just before the hurricane... tough tittie.
The supermarket was fine this afternoon so it just didn't occur to me to imagine that it would be completely swamped in the evening. Well, it was. The Sav-A-Center on Tchoupitoulas is immense, and has an even larger parking lot. My first clue should have been the fact that every space was taken in a parking lot normally only one-third full during peak hours.
It was an absolute madhouse. Most people were stocking up on corn chips, beer, and candy. At least they were choosing food that didn't have to be refrigerated or cooked. If the power and gas went out they wouldn't starve. I guess there is a bodily instinct or something to hoard up quick-energy foods whenever the barometric pressure plummets.
Far too much trouble to go through for tortillas, masking tape, Rocky Road ice cream for Dee's boyfriend, and a couple of other last minute items. So, I gave up and headed for the A&P on Magazine, a much smaller store.
I drove down Magazine, with still-pleasant weather, listening to and singing along with one of Seal's more mellow songs, and noting that half the businesses were boarded up, as if we were actually in the middle of a major disaster.
The A&P was Xanax compared to the Sav-A-Center, but still crowded. I picked up the last bottle of Coke in the store, and wondered with a smile how much of a disaster would have to occur before Coke, like lipstick and stockings, could be traded for sex.
Later I headed for the video store. This too had been well picked over. Left with Heartbreakers, Lost Souls, and The Affair of the Necklace.
Heard ominous scratching noises and thumps and creaks around 1 AM. I thought this was the branches of the tree brushing up against the house, but it turns out that one of the chimneys was falling apart brick by brick, and these were falling across all sides of the roof, depositing bricks on both side yards and the back yard.
At 4:45 AM we huddled in the small hallway between the main bathroom and the old fireplace as a tornadic system passed within two miles of us. Our house is a "shotgun" style double converted into a single, so there is not really an "innermost" part of the house away from windows. Tornadoes are not exactly a frequent danger in New Orleans.
Our landlord, the infamous and inscrutable Frater Alav, fared worse. He had windows blow outward -- a probable sign of close tornadic pressure -- and had tree damage and water damage and sundry other problems.
I have been feeling groggy all day, despite sleeping much of the morning and afternoon.
The next time we run out of tortillas just before the hurricane... tough tittie.
The supermarket was fine this afternoon so it just didn't occur to me to imagine that it would be completely swamped in the evening. Well, it was. The Sav-A-Center on Tchoupitoulas is immense, and has an even larger parking lot. My first clue should have been the fact that every space was taken in a parking lot normally only one-third full during peak hours.
It was an absolute madhouse. Most people were stocking up on corn chips, beer, and candy. At least they were choosing food that didn't have to be refrigerated or cooked. If the power and gas went out they wouldn't starve. I guess there is a bodily instinct or something to hoard up quick-energy foods whenever the barometric pressure plummets.
Far too much trouble to go through for tortillas, masking tape, Rocky Road ice cream for Dee's boyfriend, and a couple of other last minute items. So, I gave up and headed for the A&P on Magazine, a much smaller store.
I drove down Magazine, with still-pleasant weather, listening to and singing along with one of Seal's more mellow songs, and noting that half the businesses were boarded up, as if we were actually in the middle of a major disaster.
The A&P was Xanax compared to the Sav-A-Center, but still crowded. I picked up the last bottle of Coke in the store, and wondered with a smile how much of a disaster would have to occur before Coke, like lipstick and stockings, could be traded for sex.
Later I headed for the video store. This too had been well picked over. Left with Heartbreakers, Lost Souls, and The Affair of the Necklace.
Heard ominous scratching noises and thumps and creaks around 1 AM. I thought this was the branches of the tree brushing up against the house, but it turns out that one of the chimneys was falling apart brick by brick, and these were falling across all sides of the roof, depositing bricks on both side yards and the back yard.
At 4:45 AM we huddled in the small hallway between the main bathroom and the old fireplace as a tornadic system passed within two miles of us. Our house is a "shotgun" style double converted into a single, so there is not really an "innermost" part of the house away from windows. Tornadoes are not exactly a frequent danger in New Orleans.
Our landlord, the infamous and inscrutable Frater Alav, fared worse. He had windows blow outward -- a probable sign of close tornadic pressure -- and had tree damage and water damage and sundry other problems.
I have been feeling groggy all day, despite sleeping much of the morning and afternoon.
