WRITING CULTURE 2012: Film, Food & Beyond

This is not my neighborhood

I was unaffected by Hurricane Sandy. This is not an attempt to pour salt in anyone’s wounds, rather it is an attempt to illustrate the first world problems of New Yorkers unaffected by the storm.

The neighborhood of Brooklyn I live in was unaffected by Hurricane Sandy. The worst part about it is, it’s not even that nice.

The only thing that was a bit of an inconvenience was the my trip to the grocery store on Sunday night. There was no water, or any tonic water for my gin. Oh the horror. The line to check out the steaks I bought was so long, I stood there sweating in my heavy winter coat for nearly an hour. It was truly a nightmare.

When I exited the supermarket I could hear the announcement from the Subway station carried by the wind. The Subway would stop running due to the hurricane. Luckily I had bought a case of beer as well.

Back home my Argentinean roommates repaired the damages their dog had made to the apartment. As they banged away replacing the chewed up moldings mangled by an anxiety ridden puppy, I looked up recipes online. My window shook in the turbulent wind, but life went on as usual. We ate, we drank, we passed gas, drank some more and then  went to bed. We woke up the next morning only to realize that not only had the storm not started, but that we were hungover. I  made an omelette stuffed with cherry tomatoes, zucchini, onions and manchego cheese and we washed it down with mimosas. This can’t be Monday.

As the day progressed work continued on as usual. Thankfully for my employers the internet lacked any awareness of what was happening outside, unless it ran through a server located in lower Manhattan. For the rest of the morning I prepared photos for an upcoming show, emailed people about somewhat important things, and drank some more.

Sometime in the afternoon it began to rain.  It was at that moment, in between looking at gaudy tuner cars and writing an article about amphibious vehicles that I realized how bad the approaching hurricane could be. How was I ever going to survive my hangover without refrigeration for my beer? I threw on my parka and stormed down the stairs on to the street. First stop liquor store, second stop…who knows.

Once on the street I realized I had made the best poor decision possible. It was clear then, at 2PM on Monday, that six hours later New York could be a very different place. There I stood being blown around by the wind in Bedford Stuvesant, the droplets of rain piercing my skin event hough it was 50+ degrees outside, that I decided to skip the run to the liquor store and attempt to grab as many supplies as I could from the supermarket. “Backpack? check. Waterproof parka? Check. Rainboots? What is the @#$!’ing National Geographic Channel? Let’s go!”

That afternoon while friends on Long Island mocked Hurricane Sandy on Facebook I looked up recipes, resized pictures of hideous tuner cars and sipped on Samuel Adams, I hoped that luck would once again side with our arrogance. It didn’t.

There’s really no need to go on about what we did for the rest of the week, that would be lacking in taste. What I can say is I will be working a lot less, and enjoying life as much as I can much more.

Photo credit: Business Insider