Grub run

 The larder is pretty bare here on board in terms of everything that isn't protein or caffeine. 

 In other words, I'm fine for now, but it's time to get groceries and stock up. 

  In the nearshore and coastal brown water merchant marine, we use the old school low class term 'grub' for food... because we're old school. And low class. 

    But yeah, grub's pretty light. Oh, we've got about 10 days' worth of chicken, rice, meat and coffee/soda, but we're well into the last bag of frozen vegetables and long since depleted the fresh stuff. 

    Yesterday I emailed the loggie boys and asked them to find us a berth in Red Hook in Brooklyn to get grubbed up in between jobs on Friday (today). We're presently underway for Brooklyn, about an hour away, which works out well, as the foofoo grocery store I like doesn't open until 0700.  

 I don't love the foofoo grocery store's prices, as no bullshit they're DOUBLE what they are at home because New York is awful, but shopping there is more about how bad every other store is moreso than the fancy store being good. 

 By the time you actually buy vegetables and meat and chicken in NY, the stuff's pushing its sell-by date before it even hits the shelves. So 1-2 days after we buy anything, the greens start becoming the browns, beef turns gray and chicken gets that fermented sour smell that we all know and wonder about. 

 No, the foofoo place we get 4-8 days of green, and the chicken/meat can get portioned out and frozen before it starts to smell. 

 People smile when I say New York is now a 3rd world city. But I'm not smiling when I say it. 

     Now, there's a Trader Joes and a Whole Foods not that far away, so I don't have to deal with the white guys with dreadlocks and their blue-haired hairy-legged womeneither at the foofoo grocery store, praise God. They've got their own places to buy their matcha-flavored toilet paper.

 But yeah, so today we'll get all fast, I'll jump on our assist tug to get a ride to our home pier, hop in a taxi, grub up, hop in ANOTHER taxi, do a bag drag down the pier to another tugboat, and get back to the HQ, hoist our grub up on deck, do another bag drag in the house, and stow the grub. All this so we can eat salad. Plays merry hell if you can't get the fiber in middle age and there's no way on God's gray earth thst you can have a nice day after 50 if you can't take a decent shit at some point.