Living The Cat. Five Life

Hurricane season, no time to quit drinking.

This guy I know was drinking Steel Reserve.  Alcohol 8.1 percent.  A manly beer.  Young redhead likes it, too.

They out.  Liquor store got no more.  The Hindu clerk helpfully offers a substitute.

Here’s what it says on the can:

Hurricane Malt Liquor. Category Five.

High Gravity.  Be Bold.  Be Smooth.  Be Powerful.

Oh, crap.

The cable went out and the power stayed on.  You can see to read but you have no idea when to seek cover.

Then the power went out.  Zero visibility, zero air conditioning.

You wait for the sound.  Like a diesel locomotive driving in circles around your house.  You just wait.

And if you’re lucky or heavily medicated, you fall asleep.

Safety Note.  A Category Five hurricane requires a certain soberness.  Always want to be ready when the looters come.

The old man and the young redhead awoke same time as a sun rise that didn’t show.

Outside, only calm.  A breezy calm.  Neighbor’s grand tree broke, the top crashing through their fence.

Many twigs everywhere.

Eighteen hours later, the power came on.

Remind me to get a battery-powered radio.

Except for no Steel Reserve, we were lucky.

Blessed.

 

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