A light, airy, effervescent, blog of grave consequence. (NOT!) Dedicated to those of us who must respond to negative stimuli by Chernobyling (entombing in concrete) our innermost thoughts.

Location: Slaughter, Louisiana, United States

A semi-gruntled corporate reliability engineer trying to make ends meet while keeping my wife happy, and myself out of the asylum.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Camille, Katrina, Tomayto, Tomahto....

So. First impression of Louisiana from someone just moving here from a state that sees its fair share of storms, generally winter storms, but still nasty? CHILL the Frig OUT!

It's a frigging hurricane. Not the God-damned rapture people! I can understand the citizens of New Orleans being a tad edgy, all that sub-sea-level stuff, you know.

But even if this thing hit us directly, the forecast is only calling for 50-70 MPH winds and heavy rain. Sheeeeiit. Try that with 24" of snow. Then call me with the complaints.

Every hotel for 100 miles is packed with weenies trying to annoy me. And they act as if the hotel is at fault for being booked up. I can't believe the attitudes of these people. I was hoping the clerk would tell this one bitch to STFU and cancel her reservation for being nasty. She was complaining that the toilet in her room made noise when it flushed. (No, I'm not kidding.) That must be some plumbing she has in her house that is utterly silent even when water is flowing. She wanted the clerk to move someone else out of their room and give it to her because she made her reservation last week and these people just made their reservations today. It was all I could do not to tell that bitch that I was in a smoking room because they had mechanical issues with the correct room for me and since my reservation was booked over two weeks ago, and I'm staying for at least a month, if she was in a non-smoking double queen, I'd take her room and she could have mine.

While the hotel was trying to sort out my room, I went to gas up the car and pick up my hurrican supplies. (Read: Case of Busch Light.) I had to drive to Fred. (That is the next little town) The Zachary gas stations were all totally packed with worried looking frantic people. Then I made the mistake of going to the WalMart supercenter to pick up the beer. PACKED. The locals were stripping the store of every loaf of bread, gallon of milk and battery. I thought I was back home and they had just announced >3" of snow.

So, I guess people really are the same all over. Good thing that's not what I was running away from with the job change.


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