Twentysomething...

The Perfectly Lame Storm

By David Lion Rattiner

I must have been in the eye of last week's 20-year storm for the entire Nor'easter.

I woke up to the sound of rain. Rain the likes of which I have never heard, except for all of the other times it has rained. In a desperate attempt, I walked outside to my car, but, dear God, I couldn't do it without getting wet. And then, unlike anything I could have imagined, I had to get into my car and, gulp, turn the windshield wipers on full blast.

Battling the endless puddles on the street, I traveled to the "Center For Emergency Shelter And Evacuation Readiness" in East Hampton, also known as the grocery store, and I packed up.

It was chaos.

There were lines at the grocery store. I actually had to stand in one. The terror of this perfect storm had gripped us all and being in the eye of it only made matters worse, psychologically. Over the speakers was an alarm, there was a spill in aisle six and it would need to be cleaned up. This storm was even knocking pasta sauce off of the shelves.

For most of the day, it was hardly raining at all where I was, but nearly every news outlet in America was talking about how rainy it was going to get in Suffolk County. The Hamptons was directly in the eye of this Nor'easter.

I drove down to the boatyard and, in a panic, desperately readied my boat by beginning to put supplies onboard. I put a Derringer in my belt, in case there were looters. You need protection when it rains like this. I stocked the boat with water, vitamin C, fishing rods and brown rice. My plan was to sail south once the storm passed. Perhaps I would find civilization there.

I better call my family and make sure that they are okay.

"Dad!"

"Hello? David?"

"Yes, Dad, it is your son! Will you survive this?"

"Survive what?"

"This storm, this 20-year storm! We may drown. Are the dogs still alive?"

"I'm watching a boxing match right now, but everything is fine. Do you want to come over?"

OH MY GOD. My Dad is not accepting reality. The idea of this perfect storm has driven him mad. He surely will not survive without my help. I must do something.

In a panic, I called my friend James, a man who owns a police scanner -- he would know what to do.

"James!"

"Hello?"

"James, thank God, you're still alive."

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Is your house still there?"

"Yeah."

"You're one of the lucky ones. This storm is causing puddles, James, puddles!"

"Yeah, I know, they say it is going to get pretty bad."

"We'll be in touch, I have to go -- I'm sailing out of here. We may lose cell phone capability. I'll send you a pigeon!"

"What?"

Click.

* * *

Now, it's Wednesday and I don't care what anybody has to say about this recently concluded Nor'easter. I worried patiently for the roof of my house to come flying off, I bought supplies, I prayed, I prepared myself emotionally, I buttoned down windows, I broke plans with friends and I seriously thought about surviving in the wilderness like Bear from "Man Versus Wild" on the Discovery Channel, which, by the way, is an awesome show.

Anyway, I don't know about you, but the Hamptons got some rain and a little wind. We've seen much, much, much worse than this. I didn't see what happened in other parts of New England, but it must have been bad. Lucky for us, we survived. Though, in a way, when you worry about something like I did about the 20-year storm they were predicting and it doesn't happen, it's almost disappointing.