Ivan is starting to feel like a non-event for us. We're here locked in our hotel waiting for something to happen.
Television and the hotel bulletins they're slipping beneath our doors tell us that things will get bad around midnight to 3:00 a.m. What bad means I'm not sure. I do know it won't be anything like the storm Alabama is experiencing right now, as I type this at 6:36 p.m. central time.
They're keeping us inside. I thought it was for our safety but it's more an issue with maintaining a certain pressure within the building. However we did make our way out of the building via the loading dock. That's where they're telling people to take their pets to poop. We almost made it to the Riverwalk when the Harbor Police stopped us and made us go back to the dog run.
Right now people's central preoccupation is with food. Confinement, cable and stale conversation has made eating the only thing people can look forward to. The lines at the two buffets the hotel has provided are long. Our group is going to try to eat in about 20 minutes. Although between a huge buffet breakfast this morning, some chips and two beers I'm pretty much jake. But eating will kill some time so I'll be in line with the rest of the refugees.
Lots of kids, pets and old people wandering around this building right now. People standing in the lobbies smoking, watching other people stand around and smoke. Allie would point to them all and tell me they're disgusting. Considering the level of patience people have waiting for this storm to happen I'll tell you I'm glad Allie's not here with me. Although I'm sure she'd like the flashlights.
A few hours ago hotel staff handed out flashlights to everyone in the building. Unfortunately I wasn't in my room when they came to my door. That means I missed out on a free flashlight. If you think I'm joking when I tell you that I am genuinely disappointed give Debbie a call. She will tell you that I'm probably doing whatever I can to get my hands on a free flashlight (they are cool, by the way; glow in the dark switches and everything).
Dwayne called to see if I was treading water. Basically he told me to be safe and hope that matters don't deteriorate to the point where the other three people in my party are forced to eat me to survive. Always good to hear a reassuring voice in a crisis. Which this isn't. Really. I mean, I suppose anytime you're not able to be where you want to be and do what you want to do you could call it a crisis. But in this case you wouldn't.
I might change my tune at midnight. But for now I'm just thinking about what's on the buffet line.
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