Not working

This city doesn’t work.

I’m not trying to be critical of New York; I’m sure that if I had 8.2 million people living in me, I wouldn’t be able to function properly either. But it’s gotten to the point where I can do nothing but shake my head with a sad and knowing smile at the number of obstacles that arise monthly to prevent my coworkers and me from doing something as simple as getting to our office.

Last month, of course, we had the pipe explosion, causing the entire neighborhood to evacuate and putting into effect a “Freeze zone” – four square blocks though which no pedestrians nor traffic can pass. This Freeze Zone happens to stand directly in between my subway stop and my building and I learned last night on the news that it will be in effect until October. OCTOBER.

This morning, because of a little rain, every subway station and train line was flooded. Okay, so it was a pretty major storm – I was awoken at 6:30am by a torrential downpour and thunder that sounded like it was coming from my livingroom. In my half-asleep state, I was fairly certain that the world was ending and had I been more conscious, I would have run into Cate’s bedroom to sing about a few of my favorite things. But still, EVERY LINE? It’s just rain, people, get it together!

This flooding completely destroyed the morning commute. My roommates and I kept the local news on all morning for MTA updates, but the anchors kept repeating, “You should probably just stay home.” Advice I took happily until about 10:30am when I decided that I really should attempt to get to the office.

My harrowing journey involved taking the wrong train (because the right one wasn’t running), getting barfed on in the subway (but that’s another story for another time), getting off at Union Square to attempt to take a bus (with a giant mob of people). And ultimately just giving up and walking two miles through 99 degree humidity to the office.

I arrived shortly after 12, covered in sweat (and vomit), to see the rest of my coworkers arriving around the same time, also drenched in sweat (not vomit). They used various tactics to get here – those with cars drove, some took the ferry. That’s one thing I will give New Yorkers – they’re resourceful.

Here’s what cracks me up about all this… the client that my team works for is in San Francisco. And it seems that every time we have a project due, some ridiculous malfunction occurs (“Oh sorry you didn’t get that PDF last night –an underground pipe exploded, sending a cloud of asbestos-filled steam hundreds of feet into the air and thousands of people home in fear. Will have it to you by the end of the day, barring another collapse in our city’s 100-year-old infrastructure.”) They must think that we’re just giant flakes. Why? Because shit like this doesn’t happen in California!

Then again, the Beastie Boys aren’t giving a live outdoor concert tonight in California, but I’m going to see them in Central Park in just three hours, which is why New York rules!