I am almost a little ashamed of myself, because I actually made a run to Citarella--an expensive, chi-chi grocery store in NYC--for most of my provisions. In fairness, the precious organic grocery store near me has fewer cheese offerings and, if you can imagine, higher prices. Plus I had a gift card (thanks, Helene!). Still, it was like a scene out of "Seinfeld" or "Curb Your Enthusiasm," with a long line of people clutching a few items--proscuitto, truffle oil, rosemary crackers, baby wild arugula (really exists), other must haves--in preparation for the hurricane.
You know how the typical local tv news reports will send a reporter to a supermarket to show people panicking in advance of a snowstorm or hurricane, and the scene almost always is of long lines of shoppers pushing carts filled with bread, milk, and eggs, on top, hiding a buttload of crap underneath? If they did that at the Citarella this morning where, among other things, I saw a 5-year old boy pulling a small cart up to the sushi display so he could grab a container of California rolls, well, the people who already hate us would hate us a little bit more.
And I understood why. It reminded me of when I went to see the store that sells only salt that opened in the West Village, just to see if it actually exists. It did. And after a young woman came in and breathlessly asked about Himalyan pink salt, I looked around nervously to see if there was someone poised to spray the store with bullets, because it almost seemed deserved.
That said, in my defense I purchased one emergency item at a normal bodega in Greenpoint on Friday:
Color me prepared.
Finally, cool celebrity spotting: As I trudged on home with my essentials, I passed David Cross carrying his bags of essentials. Now I'm off to hide under the covers. See you Wednesday (god willing)!