“To evacuate or not to evacuate, that is the question.”
― Steven Magee
“Sable, pack up. We need to leave,” Marie said.
I blinked sleep from my eyes and sat up. I stared for a few moments and then mumbled, “What?”
“The hurricane’s path changed. It’s coming straight toward us. We need to evacuate.”
It took me a few moments to process that. Then I began putting all of my stuff back in my bags. Why did the hurricane have to wait for me to come before hitting Florida? I guess it was better than being in Pennsylvania worrying about Marie constantly.
I watched as Marie tried to decide which belongings were most important to her, the ones she had to bring. I decided to leave all my clothes that were dirty. A necessary sacrifice. Despite the fact that I had bought a whole new wardrobe just to…um, not to impress my girlfriend, I have no idea what you are talking about.
A mandatory evacuation order had been issued for the area. But there were several problems. We were not prepared to bring all the animals. Heck, we were not prepared period. At this rate we would hit the rush of crazy panicked people driving like idiots. Worst case we would be stuck in a car during a fucking hurricane. Best case scenario we would be searching for a chicken-friendly, dog-friendly, cat-friendly hotel as they rapidly filled with people who’d had the good sense to leave early.
So we decided to stay home and weather the storm.
Yep. We ignored the mandatory evacuation order. My family was thrilled. My dad said Marie and her dad were no longer to be trusted and were, I quote, “shady.”
What did they expect me to do? Demand her dad drive me off the island? Um, no. I was sticking it out with Marie. Hurricane or no. After all, I am diagnosed crazy. Sorry mom and dad.
Post 31 in Socially Unacceptable: The Daily Life of a Queer Schizophrenic Wreck (2022)
This is an autobiographical series about my life, something I have wanted to do for a long time. I intend to add new content daily.
For the whole series, follow this link.