Hurricane Irene's A-Comin': The Seven Types of Storm-Preparing South Floridians
Every year, the TV people with the perfect hair stand in front of big, swirling storm maps and tell us, in so many words, Holy fucking shit the big one is here.
It's how we prepare -- or not -- for an impending storm that defines us as South Floridians. Because more often than not, the hurricane that had the TV weatherpeople hyperventilating veers off or peters out. But not before there's been a stampede at Publix and an explosion in the Duracell black market.
With Irene set to
pummel tickle us, it's time for some soul-searching: What kind of storm-preparer are you?
1. The Survivalist
2. Mr. Blasé
This Zen hero -- who most likely grew up in South Florida -- still thinks Irene is just a Johnny Cash song. If the big one ever were to trap him in his house, he'd be forced to live on salad dressing and pickles. But nothing bad ever happens to the one person who makes no preparations for a storm: All of his neighbors will be huddled in the darkness, and he'll be obliviously watching Judge Judy, casually enjoying the day off from work.
3. The Guerrilla Soccer Mom
If you encounter her in Aisle 7, slowly hand over Smucker's jelly. And the jug of water while you're at it. She might drive a minivan with iCarly perpetually playing on seven screens in the back seat. But she will cut a bitch.
4. The Surfer Dude, Man
While everybody else is hunkered down in their ponchos, Keanu loves the idea that during a storm, the waves are even rage-ier and the hang-tens are curlier blah blah blah Kings of Leon. Sometimes this happens to them, which -- admit it -- is nice.
5. The Entrepreneur
This guy is the reason you can never find AA batteries or flashlights in any store in South Florida by late May. He's got them all in his garage, and when the big one is threatening to come, he'll be on Craigslist or the side of the road, trying to sell generators for a thousand bucks. Hey, Rupert Murdoch got his start somewhere.
6. The Reporters Who Work for Editor Chuck Strouse
He tells the reporter who lives in South Beach to ride out the storm at Mac's Club Deuce and... report on the psyche of the drunks? The hack who lives a little farther up the beach is assigned to a nursing home. And pity the sad scribe who lives on the mainland, for he shall be sent to the Joseph P. Caleb Government Center. But what of my family, you think as these assignments are meted out, and my dog? Plus, isn't it Saturday?
7. The Any-Excuse-Is-A-Good-Excuse Partier