Two P.M. Saturday afternoon. The store is full of renters buying stuff for their week in Destin. My list includes:
Eggs.
Bagels.
Butter.
Buttermilk.
Pepper.
Beer.
Crackers.
Mustard.
Mayonnaise.
Puppy Chow.
A small list, because we brought much of what we needed along with us. I was in the back of the store and had the Buttermilk, butter, eggs, and beer in the cart when she approached me:
"Sir, did you not hear?"
"No, I didn't hear anything. What?"
"We're evacuating the store. You need to leave right now."
"Leave my cart here?"
"Leave your cart there."
I walk away from my cart and join the throng walking toward the exit. What's going on here?
The obvious answer is "Bomb threat".
I ask the greeter... "Any idea how long this will be?"
She shakes her head.
No one seems angry. Most, like me, are just frustrated, knowing we'll have to return to start this process all over.
Traffic in Destin is bad under the best of circumstances.
Imagine emptying the human contents of a WalMart SuperCenter onto an already packed U.S. Highway 98.
(And me driving a car with a questionable battery!)
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