Preppers

So, I’m officially a prepper. Like everyone in the South, I’ve been tracking this massive snow storm that’s hitting the mountains right about now. The projected snow totals climbed throughout the week as we moved closer to the event and it began looking like we were approaching the snow storm of the century. A foot in town, they said. Two feet in the mountains, they said. So I did what everyone else in the South does when the snow is about to fall: I went to the grocery store.

The thing to do when you’re shopping for a snow-pocalypse, is to focus on the necessities. The staples. That’s why everyone goes straight for the milk and bread. Get all you can. You don’t know how long you’ll be trapped in your house, and lord knows you can’t live without a bread and milk sandwich.

I take a slightly different approach to shopping for a snow storm, though. I focus on the staples too, it’s just that my staples are a little different. Mainly beer and Pop Tarts. Also, several different kinds of sausage. And Bagel Bites. Essentially, when it snows, I turn into a frat boy prepping for a party. I spent the whole day chopping wood, icing down beer and arranging my canned goods alphabetically. So I can find the smoked oysters quickly when I need them. 

Looking over my stash of non-perishable goods, beer and firewood, I feel good about the future. I understand the sense of satisfaction those crazy preppers get, stocking bunkers with hundreds of cans of Vienna sausages for God knows what sort of apocalypse. I get it. I’m ready. My skis are waxed. My beer is iced. As they say in that Disney movie, “let it snow.”

Wait. Shit. I forgot to buy fireworks.

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