Uh-OhMonday 15th Irony is hard to come by. People are always saying how something is ironic, but they're wrong 90% of the time; however, this whole hurricane thing has given me a nice opportunity. Apparently, all our hurricane relief workers were sent to Texas. Texas needed the extra people, but our state was then helpless in doing even the simplest of tasks. Sure, electricity wouldn't return for another five days, but I think it was worth it.
People were in a general panic. The streets (and the upper stories of some houses) were filled with trees. Everything in the fridge started to spoil. I attempted to cook a microwave dinner over a fire in my backyard. Failure.
I spent the rest of the day weaving around the city for a ice, but everyone is sold out. A man walked out of a gas station holding the last seven bags. Out of complete desperation, I asked if he could spare one, but he says he is saving them for the rest of the week.
"How are you supposed to save ice without a freezer?"
"Fuck you." He replies. Touché.
Tuesday 16th Food shortages. Only McDonald's had power, and a man can only eat so many french fries before his mind slips. The streets were lined with filled trashcans. Some people weren't even putting their spoiled products in bags, it all just sat there. A breeze smelling like rotten dairy would pass by every once in awhile.
I saw a young boy ride by on a bike before dusk. He had something dead strapped on the back with a few bungee cords. I couldn't get a good look as he zoomed by, but I'm pretty sure it was a groundhog, either that or a cat, possibly an Indian scalp. I'm not suggesting that he's some feral boy planning on eating the thing, but his hands were caked in maroon and the dried blood stained the majority of his shirt as he pedaled by my house. A hunter/gatherer society seems to have risen from the ashes of civilization.
The batteries on my flashlight died while I was doing a crossword puzzle. I just sat in the darkness for a while. I felt pathetic about my boredom. For centuries, people lived with the darkness, but I only last three days. I go to bed around 9pm.
Wednesday 17th Dark. Boring. The trees leaning against the power lines were still there. No one has attempted to move it. Hell, no one in the city has even looked at it. Maybe that is why the power is out.
Thursday 18th Also dark.
Friday 19th My power comes on at 3am. Every light on my house flashed on at once. I jumped out of bed, not from excitement, no, I thought I had died. Once I figured everything out, I went around the house turning off the lights. Why is every light switch in my house flipped on?
I realized the next day that my neighbors were still powerless. Suckers. Though they were forced to spend every night in the dark, the majority of the panic has passed. The branches were neatly stacked in front of houses. No one was picking them up, but they looked nice anyway. Suburban housewives began bragging about how they suffered more than other families. The minor disaster had already transformed to a major exaggeration. At work, I heard a man mention how the storm was (and I quote) "our 9/11." People were arranging the debris on their lawn to make the situation look worse. The news covered two topics: Hurricane Ike and the next Buckeye game. I go to sleep hoping that my wish will come true.
Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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