Mrs Haz and I were dining with a couple we’ve known for many years, and somehow the conversation took an unexpected turn into preparedness. These people were not the generally conservative kind, but had good intentions and were clearly contemplating an improvement of their readiness for a black swan event. The next Antifa burndown or COVID panic, etc.
(You know what I’m talking about…that very awkward moment in which you don’t know just how much you should divulge about your own gun/prep status, so you tip toe through the discussion to feel it out…)
At some point, I let down my guard *just enough* to state the Haz household has enough food and sundries to get us through any lockdowns or catastrophes lasting up to two weeks. (It’s actually half a year, but again, I was tip toeing to feel it out)
That’s when the husband said, “Oh good…so if things get really bad, we can come over to your place.”
I looked at him right in the eyes and changed my expression from a happy buddy to a stern poker face, and said, “No you won’t. You’ll start preparing your own house starting tomorrow.”
He laughed.
His wife laughed.
My wife nervously laughed.
I didn’t laugh.