[scrypt]

After literally an hour of reassuring my beloved Mamther that the blackout I endured was not the result of some inadvertent parenting mistake on her part, I'm happy to report that, after two days of dark nights in the PJs, I now have electric light and AC again and need not fret about stir-crazed neighbors sliding manly sheets of plastic under my lock. Huzzah-h-h-h-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z.

With props to Steve Cannon, everyone's favorite all-seeing sightless writer, for allowing me to make phone calls in the dark.

 

[lan]

welcome back to the light! what neighborhood are you in? i'm in lower east side. i thought i was in last 10-15% without lights. you must be last 5% or something

 

[jessica00]

haha..ficking 3rd world power grid huh?

 

[scrypt]

Actual locus: 4th St. btwn C & D.

The power reappeared while I was loitering at the intersection of 51st Street and 5th Avenue and waiting for a free bus to take me home. I know because I was listening to the wretchedly overpriced radio neckwear trinket I'd bought scant moments before. Had I known my radio would save New York, I'd have filched the person twenty-four hours earlier.

Transferring to the M14 line was faintly smirk-inducing. When they got to Avenue B and saw the traffic lights, guys sitting splay-legged on the handicapped seats in the back -- freshmen or fresh men with thin moustaches and rags crinkled on their heads like albino grape leaves (all that was missing were the olives) -- started shouting and bumping and pounding the seats like Airedales catching a whiff of a giant Michelin man made of beef teriyaki. "We ridin' like heroes now! Power back on! AC! AC! I'm goin' home turn the muv fuh'in' light on!"

I thought the commentary was classic but kept my horse snorts low.

The middle-aged Chinese couple toward the front paid zero attention to the concatenation behind them. I couldn't tell whether they felt the antiphonal fuss was incomprehensible, trivial or undignified, or if they were simply masters of the poker puss. The man did put his radio to his ear once. His ladyfriend's ankle grazed his. They sometimes held hands but continued to look straight ahead.

And btw: the LES *is* the third world, which is one of the reasons I like living there. (I like it less lately, though, given the state of the arts and urban economics generally.)