I’m caving.
This evening I am going to go out and buy some plastic wrap and duct tape for my windows, I am going to start storing up on water, and I am going to buy a bunch of perishable food. I am not going to buy a gas mask. I am not going to buy a Darth Vader anthrax suit. But I realized I am not prepared, should something awful happen. I would be screwed.
I look around the streets of Manhattan and I notice a significantly visible police presence (more so than usual). There are cops everywhere. On my commute into the city, the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel crawls with cops pulling cars over, doing random searches.
Maybe when this all blows over I will look at the 20 cans of peanut butter and piles of tuna fish in my cupboard and feel like a lunatic, but I suppose it’s better to take it at least a LITTLE bit seriously. I hate it. One reason why I have ignored the warnings thus far is that I do not want, in any way, to feel like those bastards are winning. But the barrage of “preparedness lists” in every major newspaper has finally infiltrated my brain.
The terrorists aren’t winning if I go out and buy peanut butter. It’s just a trip to the grocery store. It doesn’t mean anything. And I’ll eat the peanut butter ANYWAY, biological attack or no.
