A post in which I prepare for ice

The weather forecast was for ice tonight, so everyone was going crazy; apparently including me. The law of the south is that whenever inclement weather is predicted, you have to go buy your bread and milk, whether you need it or not. Unfortunately, I had to go to the store. Bread and milk I have, but I was out of cream for my coffee. If I was going to be iced in, I wasn’t going to be iced in without coffee fixins.

The grocery store, of course, was a madhouse. Eight million people, all grabbing stuff like it was Armageddon, and gumming up at the front of the store, despite the fact that every register was open and even the managers were out there bagging groceries. I got my few items and got in line with some people who, like me, were feeling slightly silly. We sheepishly shared self-depreciating humor as we waited in line. Amazingly, I wasn’t in there until my Social Security kicked in, as I had expected.

I got home and texted a buddy who had gotten in touch earlier today. He’s a nice enough guy, but not really dating material. I was kind of wanting some time alone, but he offered to come over. I thought “Why not?” That question was soon answered. He showed up (eventually – I have to talk him in with the cell phone every time) in a snow-covered car with an overnight bag. Um, I don’t think so. He came in for a while, but I studiously avoided any of the sledge-hammer hints he was throwing out about staying the night. He’s a nice enough guy, but there was no way he was getting snowed/iced in here with me, possibly for a couple of days, possibly sans power. Recipe for a homicide.

Eventually we ended up on the sofa watching Groundhog Day with Bill Murray. Eventually, I prized his butt out of the house with a crowbar, and went on to bed.