As people continued to send text messages to loved ones to check on their well being or to share vital information like the locations of pod (point-of-distribution) centers, the number to call for food stamps (everyone became eligible) open grocery stores, gas stations, and restaurants, on Wednesday my brother was forwarded an alert of another kind.
AFTER DA STORM COOKOUT & PARTY….2 DAY FROM NOON TO CURFEW! COME EAT, DRINK & PARTY AND 4GET ABOUT IKE! PAJAMA PARTY 8 P.M. – 12 A.M. FREE TILL 8 P.M. $5 AFTER!
In a time of grief and sorrow a club promoter – out of the sheer graciousness of his heart, no doubt – decided to wave the cover charge for 8 hours as he provided a venue (possible powered by a generator) for people to come together and get fucked up in the middle of the day. Tell me you’re touched, too.
The reason why it’s a pajama party might be related to the fact that it’s too damn hot to wear anything else. And by cookout, I’m assuming hot dogs topped with cocaine.
If people weren’t still roaming around the city searching for gas, generators, light bulbs, and ice without the fear of doing so past midnight so they won’t be issued a $500 citation for violating curfew, I imagine it would be a lot easier to just forget about Ike. But alas, that ain’t the case and a mid-afternoon shot can only do so much, no?
Update: People don’t learn. Another club tried to buck the system and found itself raided last night. The curfew ended tonight. You would think people could wait a little while longer, but apparently not. Oh well. Holla at a bail bondsman.