Sunday, August 28, 2005

And thus she begins

More gas in the tank and a belly full of O'Charleys. It is disturbing to sit in a diner expecting good service when you know full well that an ungodly huge storm is about to tap dance on your spleen. But everyone is dressed in their Sunday Best and the kitchen staff is yelling to the waiters that the Lunch Rush would not be so chaotic if fewer of the college kids had ran like cowardly little children.

Hey, Chef Jackass, I'm not sure if you missed this news alert or not, but just in case: There's a HURRICANE coming! Can we cut the college kids a little slack? I'm not sure if it is worth their lives just to serve Mr & Mrs Hattiesburg a bowl of potato soup and some hot yeast rolls.

Other than the morally-challenged barely-english-speakings chefs, it is obvious that everyone is starting to get EXTRA friendly. "Good luck," ends most conversations. We're all being polite while we can. We know what looms ominously on the horizon. Know it might be our last words to a stranger. And know we need to generate some good karma.

On the ride home, the black clouds appear. Pushing north. And thus she begins.
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