We had some nasty weather move through roughly about two hours ago. When I left the house a little before noon to go walking around the lake, it was sunny, hot and the skies were blue. And humid. Really, really humid. Because we'd had another set of thunderstorms move through around nine this morning and they'd just---to quote Stella from Rear Window---made the heat wet. As I huffed and puffed around the lake, sweating up a storm (yeech!), I wasn't really surprised to hear over the radio that another set of storms was going to move through. What I was surprised about, however, was that the county was in a severe thunderstorm warning, instead of a watch. I decided to hustle home. And a good thing I did, too, because by the time I'd reached the house, I could see big, blue clouds rolling in from the northwest.
Then the husband called. Our new landlord had called him, wondering if he was home and could walk his suddenly available plumber through a preliminary check of the place because he was stuck at work. Obviously, I was home and was more than willing to show the guy through the place. No hassles. But he was going to be there in five minutes or thereabouts. I raced through the shower---did I mention it was humid when I was at the lake?---and when I got out, well, you'd have thought night had descended upon the Greater Twin Cities area. The clouds had turned blackish-green, which, any native of the midwest could tell you usually means bad things. Like hail. And the occasional tornado.
It started to downpour, and wow, what a storm! It was the first really nasty one of the season. In between keeping an eye out for the plumber, I was watching the waterfall on the south side of the house. You see, Tweedledumb never bothered to clear out the gutters after all the leaves fell. Have I mentioned we have three oaks and five pine trees in the yard, and a few of them hang over the house? So, to put it mildly, there's a few years worth of debris in the gutters. Rather I should say there was a few years worth of detritus in the gutters because it was raining so hard it actually knocked crap out of the gutters and sent it careering to the ground. I've never seen that happen before and it was kind of cool. But no tornadoes, which is always kind of a blessing and a curse. No running to the basement, but no excitement, either. Sigh.
Well, the plumber didn't show up until two-thirty. He'd waited the storm out, but hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Which wasn't really pleasing, but was understandable. I wouldn't have wanted to drive through that storm, either. The "world coming to an end" situation comes in when the plumber left and I left the house in search of a pack of smokes.
I'd run out before I'd gone to the lake. Now, normally this isn't a hassle. Just walk down the street to Walgreens and pick up a pack. No hassles. But where we hadn't lost electricity, which I must admit is a first for this kind of storm, everyone else had. And NO ONE wanted to open up and sell their wares to people who wanted to buy stuff. Because they didn't have power.
Now, I know this is going to sound very "When I was your age, I walked five miles to school, uphill both ways, and it snowed a lot too," but what the hell is up with that? Are you that crippled without power that you can't ring things up by hand? Can't you do the math with a calculator? Can't you keep track of what you sold with a pen and a piece of paper, and then enter it in manually when you have power again? None of these things, apparently, are possible nowadays.
Back in the day when I managed for Caribou, we lost power due to an overeager construction crew one afternoon. And it was no big deal. In fact, it was an adventure. The kids working with me had a ball---when they got over their fear of performing all the transactions manually. I gave the drip brew away because I couldn't guarantee that it was hot and I was just going to have to pitch it anyway. Obviously, espresso drinks were out. But I had a boatload of of bakery products to sell, and believe you me, boy, did they sell. People were hungry. It was lunchtime, and here they were in the middle of a freakin' grocery store, loaded with food, and they couldn't buy anything. I was out of product within an hour. And all because I knew how to use a calculator and how to record things with a pen and a piece of paper, I sold stuff I normally would have pitched at the end of the day. There's opportunity everywhere, and yet, no one in this neighborhood apparently cares about capitalism. No one cares about the law of supply and demand. Because the power's out. And they can't be bothered. Because this was more of a "Woohoo, we've got the afternoon off!" situation for most of these employees, and not one where money could be made.
Not a lot of initiative there if you ask me.
Now, I realize you're thinking "well, the cash drawer locked up. They can't access it." Sorry, that one's not going to fly, because I've seen people get into the drawers at these places with a simple turn of a key. Or you might be thinking, "there's liability issues. Dark store, people bumping around, hurting themselves." Yeah, I understand that one, too, but when they've actually let friends into the store---and I can see them---and you're standing at the front door, telling me to go away because there's no power, well, that's not going to fly, either. And, yes, they had flashlights.
You should have seen this chick at Walgreens. Man, was she ever peeved with me. I told her I didn't need change, but I just needed a pack of smokes. That's all. Here's my id. Here's the three bucks. PLEASE? (Yeah, I was having a nicotine fit. But I was polite about it.) But we don't have power she said in a really whiny voice. We can't sell you anything because it would ruin our inventory. "What?" I replied, somewhat baffled, "Aren't you keeping track of sales manually? You can enter them in when the power comes back on, can't you?" When she whined some more, I finally had to play my trump card: "what are those women doing in there? They don't work here. They work at the salon across the street. How come you're selling to them and not to me?" At which point she let out an incredibly windy, My-God-Are-You-Ever-Putting-Me-Out sort of sigh and then handed over the smokes. I took them and boogied. I didn't want to "bother" her anymore.
It kind of makes you wonder what the case would be if there was a really serious outage. A days long outage. Because that's been known to happen in this neighborhood in the past because our power lines aren't buried. This happened before I moved here, but I heard nothing but goodwill stories. People helping people. Stores pitching in and helping their customers. Gas pumps were unlocked manually and no one stole anything.
I wonder if that would still be the case today. Or would it be more like this, even if it was a godawful movie.
Posted by Kathy at June 20, 2005 04:24 PM