I make my way to the garage and pull the door up. I almost forget my car is still at the grocery store and I get to drive Abby’s car.
As I pull into the department store parking lot, it’s still hard for me to get used to the lack of cars around. You never fully understand how large a parking lot is until you see it completely empty.
I pull up right next to the sliding glass doors. I’ve come a long way in twenty-four hours; yesterday I wouldn’t even park in a handicap spot. I try the doors to see if they swing open, and when they don’t I waste no time getting the shovel out of the trunk. Batter up! I get into my best baseball swing stance, ready to unleash my full force into the glass door. I take a side step forward and swing with all of the effort I can muster. The swing lets out all my frustration the last day has caused me. There’s a thud but not the sound of glass being broken that I was expecting. “Damn it,” this is some strong glass; I barely made a scratch. I take another swing but get equal results. I take a swing at the other side of the door but it’s made from the same heavy-duty material.
Well this is not what I was planning for! What am I supposed to do now? I thought this would be the easy part, with walking around in a dark, smelly department store being the difficult part. I’m left thinking of other options to get in.
I really don’t want to be stuck in this town eating nothing but cereal and leftover peanut butter forever. I have to find a way to get in. I look over at Abby’s car and an idea strikes me. Just like they do in the movies, I’ll slam through the front entrance with the car. This idea sounds nuts and I remind myself this isn’t a movie. It will destroy the car. If it was my car I wouldn’t care but this is Abby’s very nice — and very expensive to insure, by the way — black BMW. Knowing my luck I wouldn’t break the door and instead cause a self-inflicted head-on collision, destroying the car — and my neck — in the process.
I contemplate the pros and cons and decide that crashing the car through the door is my only option. This is absolute craziness, but I always say desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m usually kidding when I say this right before I’m about to do something really stupid, and this would fall under one of those occasions. Another one of my favorite sayings, “you only live life once,” gives me the motivation I need to get started.
I get in the car and buckle up, safety first. Thinking as rationally as possible, I decide to back into the door as opposed to a full, head-on crash. My thinking is, with the impact, if I hit the door going forward and stop abruptly, my head will go forward and get whiplash. But if I back into it, my head will just hit the back of the seat. Also, I prefer the idea of causing massive damage to the back of the car instead of the front. Maybe that’s because the engine is in the front, and I want to eliminate any chance of the car blowing up. Causing damage to the back of the car will also be much easier to ignore while I’m driving. I’ve got enough on my mind, and driving with my front windshield gone isn’t something else I want to deal with now.
I start the engine and I decide to do a test run at a low speed to see if that will be enough damage. After all, there’s no reason to go crazy and cause massive destruction if you don’t have to.
Starting from only about five yards away I ease on the gas and slowly back my way into the door. I hear a loud crash, which sounds like the back of my car being destroyed. My heart rate starts to pick up. What a stupid idea! I’ve probably just inflicted thousands of dollars in damage to Abby’s car. I’m sure there’s a loophole my car insurance company can find about attempted break-ins.
I move the car up to assess the damages. When I get out, I’m surprised to see the sliding glass door has been smashed all the way through. The frame of the door is severely bent, but the glass has shattered enough for me to at least make an entrance. Before I assess the car’s damage, I close my eyes and take a deep breathe. “No matter what, it was worth it. I have no other choice,” I tell myself. I walk over and see the middle of the trunk is smashed upward, although only by a few inches and it’s impossible for me to notice while driving. It’s something I would definitely get repaired, but, all things considered, I’m pleased with how little damage there is.
I take my shovel and jab out the remaining glass. I go back to the car to grab my flashlight and then make my way inside.
It’s dark, but there’s still some light coming in through the front door. A flashlight though makes the job a lot easier.
I go through my list of things I want to get: batteries for the flashlight, gas jugs, a gas siphon, an ax, guns and ammo, a car map, lots of peanut butter, lots of cereal, lots of bottled water, and any other food I see that’s edible at room temperature.
I grab a shopping cart and go through the empty isles. As always, I head down the non-food isles first and start by grabbing a gas tank. I debate whether I should grab another, then I realize, at the price of free, I might as well err on the side of caution and grab one more. Next to the gas tanks are gas siphons. I grab a couple of those as well (just in case one gets dirty).
Next is the hunting area. I’ve never actually walked through here before, but it doesn’t take long before I realize they don’t sell guns. They have all the hunting accessories you could possibly imagine but no guns. This is disappointing news. I try to recall any gun stores nearby but can’t think of any.
As I walk around the rest of the hunting area I do notice they have BB and pellet guns. It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but it will have to do. I know nothing about these guns except that pellet guns are more powerful than BB guns. They have three different versions, so I grab the one with the biggest box. Fortunately, it looks like there’s only one type of pellet ammo, so at least I won’t worry about getting the wrong type.
Next on my list is an ax, which I have no clue where to find. After walking down several aisles for about fifteen minutes, I do locate one. There’s only one choice, and it’s not the big burly ax I was imagining for serious destruction. It’s small with the blade not much farther than the handle. Again though, it’s better than nothing.
Even though I’ve never actually read a map before, I figure I should pick one up. My entire driving life has consisted of printing off Mapquest directions, then graduating to GPS devices. I’ve never had the need to take out a map and plot how to get to my destination before. Working with a map seems so primitive; I can’t imagine how difficult life was before the Internet. Millions of arguments must have been saved on family vacations by a little gadget telling you step-by-step how to get there.
When I get to the maps section, I’m amazed at how many there are. Since I’m not paying today, I grab any and every map I think I might possibly need.
Now it’s food and drink time. I go back to the front and grab another cart, making sure to start with several twenty-four-pack cases of bottled water.
The next aisle is for cereal. I get excited and grab all the healthy, organic stuff I always think about trying but never do. Before I know it, I have about fifteen to twenty bags of various kinds of cereal stuffed in my cart, seeing this makes my mouth water. I wonder why I’m so hungry and then realize I haven’t had much to eat in the past twenty-four hours.
I go down the bread aisle and am pleased to see there are still some loaves that don’t expire for another week. I also grab a couple jars of peanut butter, which are high in calories — exactly what I need for my no-cooking diet.
I also grab a few other things I hadn’t thought of, like bananas and other various fruits and head toward the front of the store. I find it a bit amusing that I have an entire store of free stuff and this is all I take with me.