Blackout!

August 16, 2003

Well, I suppose it's pretty big news. I mean, the blackout and all. I was at work in Manhattan when it all went down. My co-workers all live in Brooklyn, so they were all set for a group hike over the bridge home. But me? I live in Brooklyn, sure, but I had no food at home and saw no pressing need to get back there. I just figured I'd stay the night at work. I mean, what difference did it make? But by the time the residual air conditioning wore off and I was sweltering alone there in the darkening office, the idea of a shower sounded like a pretty good reason "why not." Screw this," I said, "I'm walking."

Crossing the intersection of 1st Avenue and 14th Street, I heard a familiar voice call my name. I looked up and, "What!? Jaime-girl!! Holy shit!"

"Jamie!! What!? That is so crazy! What are the chances?"

Jaime-Girl works near Wall Street and was in the process of walking to Queens. That's a far walk! She’s already walked quite a way by the time we ran into each other. We stood on the corner for a few minutes and agreed that neither of us was excited about going home, so we decided that a drink was in order. We found a pitch black bar — candles burning and the beer still cold. We ordered a round, found a couple of seats, and talked about how glad we were to have run into each other.

After our drink, I suggested we walk together to Brooklyn. I told her I'd give her a ride home from there. As soon as she got over the idea of walking back in the direction she’d just come from, she agreed. It was another world, walking through the blackness of the streets. All the familiar signs and visual cues vanished into the black hole. We walked by dozens and dozens of bars, each one with dozens and dozens of people spilling out of them. Flares were lighting the street, and cops were directing traffic in the intersections. There was a certain energy in the air, like we were in a parking lot after a big stadium concert. As if we'd just seen Metallica at Giants Stadium and we were looking for our car, everyone around us still buzzing from the show.

It was about midnight when we arrived at the Williamsburg Bridge and began the mile-long trek over it. Even that late, it was packed. People walking and biking in both directions under a big orange moon hanging so low in the sky. Looking back at Manhattan from the middle of the bridge, we saw the Empire State Building black against gray. Flat, like a construction paper silhouette. I guess some people had a shitty time — people stuck on subways and elevators — but you'd never know it by Williamsburg. As we came down the slope of the bridge and entered the neighborhood, it was all bonfires and barbecues. Salsa music blasting from car radios, people dancing, kids running around with glow sticks, and lawn chairs in the streets. We found a nice little bar with a patio and had another drink outside.

“Cheers,” said Jaime-Girl. “It’s nice to have someone to share the adventure with.”