(Kruiser’s Permanote Description: This column is intended to be a lighthearted, short-form way to frequently connect with our cherished VIP readers. Sometimes it will be serious. Sometimes it will be fun. Sometimes it will be a cornucopia of intellectual curiosities and fascinations. OK, maybe not so much the last one. Anyway, as this is a departure for me, I’m including this explanation at the top of each post for a while. Also, non-subscribers can see the first couple of paragraphs so I am in desperate need of filler until we get to the private stuff (subscribe here). Please remember that there is a standing invitation to ask me anything in the comments. Once in a while, I’ll answer some of them.)
It’s time for this quickie column to be a thing again. The news world needs more palate cleansers. It’s that, or we’re all gonna be mixing cold medication with discount vodka. I don’t want to find myself in a checkout line with nothing but NyQuil, Svedka, and Fancy Feast cat food.
This quick hit is about what I consider to be one of the greatest crises facing the United States today: the horrifying shortage of Sriracha.
Some things are such constants in our lives that we begin to assume they’ll be around forever, like unattractive women twerking on TikTok. I’m not even on TikTok and I somehow keep seeing Marge from HR grinding away.
We begin taking for granted the beloved things that we’re used to (Marge definitely doesn’t fall into this category) and are dealt a horrible shock when they are no longer readily available.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had Sriracha in the house. Not just the kitchen, but all over the damn house. When you use something that much you can’t waste time running into other rooms to get it.
No, I won’t tell you why there’s usually a bottle of it in my shower.
One day last year, I found myself out of Sriracha. Not low on, but out of Sriracha. That was something that didn’t happen around here much but I was probably still partially braindead from the pandemic.
No problem though, just buy some more at the store, right? EXCEPT THE STORE DIDN’T HAVE ANY.
That was new too. To my horror, none of the stores around me had any. What kind of barbaric hellscape had Pete Buttigieg propelled me into? How was I supposed to eat, well, anything without Sriracha?
The infant formula shortage was going on at the same time. It had been over two decades since I’d had an infant in my house, so I couldn’t get too worked up about that. Those kids wouldn’t want to grow up in a world without Sriracha anyway. (Side note: We should put Sriracha in baby formula. Start toughening them up early, I say.)
Anyway, a couple of months ago, the store had some again. I thought that our long national nightmare was over, so I only bought one.
I’m out again, and they’re out again. I tweeted about it earlier today and someone responded that it took her a month of looking everywhere to find one mini-sized Sriracha. She warned me not to buy an off-brand, but it was too late. I’d already purchased the store brand, like some sort of peasant.
It’ll be in stock again one day, and I won’t be so polite with my purchase. When the apocalypse does come, you’ll know who to hit up for the condiment of the gods.
