One of the things I enjoy about living in Seattle is the lack of snow and cold weather.
Yes, it gets dreary and rainy, but we only get a dusting of snow here and there during the winter.
January was cold but not unmanageable.
Then we got a few inches of snow in early February and the whole city shut down.
My bus to work had chains on its tires, and for the next two days, I was one of only five people who showed up in my office.
Being from the Midwest, I’m no stranger to snow and ice. But if you add hills and general unpreparedness to the whole situation, Seattle full-fledged shuts down with snow.
Enter Snowmageddon 2019. We were warned of a long weekend of snow, 6 inches to one foot. Enough for chaos to ensue.
I decided to be smart and load up on wine and cheese, because while I have enough food to get by, I knew I’d go crazy if I was snowed in for a few days without the essentials.
I went to the grocery and almost turned right back around.
I don’t like to grocery shop on Sunday because it’s basically a shit show. The aisles are too slim and no one seems to have a sense of how much space they take up as they peruse the kale while I’m trying to pass by.
But this was next level insanity.
There wasn’t a cart available or even a hand-held basket, so I almost left. But then I spotted one abandoned on the ground where someone had clearly just given up and walked out and considered luck on my side.
The lines snaked through the aisles for check out. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of the shoppers.
“What if I don’t get milk or bread in time?!” they panicked as if that was the be all end all of survival in a storm.
I’ve always wondered what milk would do for you in a real storm situation anyhow.
“Excuse me,” I said as I pushed through one of several check out lines in order to make it to the wine aisle.
I was shocked so much wine was left while the bread was empty. People clearly didn’t prioritize their real winter necessities properly.
I waited patiently in one of the lines while the girl behind me said she lived across the street and thought about coming later at night but was worried they would run out of food.
I looked in her basket and eyed her cauliflower and grapes, and nodded as she clearly did not need to be here.
“I mean, I guess cauliflower isn’t an emergency,” she stated, as my judgment was apparently very clearly written across my face.
I was just there for the wine and cheese, while others were panicking because there was no toilet paper.
Now that would be a Snowmageddon crisis.
Stuck in your apartment for a week with no TP?
I would lose my mind. I deemed that worthy of panicking.
I eventually made my way out the door, taking a breath and wishing the people walking in good luck as I prepared to bunker in for the weekend like the classy broad that I am: watching murder documentaries while downing copious amounts of wine and cheese.
Not everyone knows how to prepare properly for a storm.