A World Without Popeye’s is Not Okay With Me
Sorry for the lack of posting lately, y’all, but I live in a post apocalyptic world now. Since I have moved to NYC there has been some huge storm every year; in 2010 we had a huge blizzard; in 2011 Hurricane Irene; in 2012 Hurricane Sandy. However, when I heard about “Frankenstorm Sandy” I did not think much of it, because Irene was such a cock tease of a storm. In fact, I didn’t even realize it was a issue until Sunday morning, as I lay hungover from my own Frankenstorm of an evening, when my roommate lightly tapped on my door and was like, “Honey, they are closing the subways at 7, we should probably go to the store…” So I pulled myself together and headed to the grocery store where I “stocked up” on pretzels, a minimal amount of water, top ramen and basically nothing else. I clearly have no idea how to prepare for a storm. Long story short, I did not even lose power — I got really lucky and feel so blessed that nothing too terrible happened to me, my family or any of my friends (although it wouldn’t have been such a tragedy if a house fell on Vlad in the storm like the Wicked Witch). Manhattan is without power from 39th street down because of a power plant explosion that happened during the hurricane — causing the LES to look like something out of a post apocalyptic movie. The only real affect I have felt in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy is that subway service from Brooklyn into Manhattan is suspended because of bad flooding in the subway tunnels. So because of this I have been stuck at home, not really able to do much work because I don’t have access to my files that are on my work computer. Unable to bear with my cabin fever any longer, I decided against much protest from others to walk into work. Walk from my apartment in Bedstuy to Rockefeller Center. Walk 7 miles. I repeat, I chose to walk 7 miles to work, and then another 7 miles back, just for some god damn files because I am a crazy person. By the time I got back to Brooklyn my legs were that of a jello substance and my brain felt in a similar manner. But ultimately I am glad I did it, because black out NYC is awesome — unlike black out Michelle (for real — ask my friends). The walk there was uneventful, but as I walked back it grew dark and the LES became my post apocalyptic wet dream. There I was “stomping” through the once lit streets of NYC in my leather jacket — so I was OBVIOUSLY the badass heroine of the story — as ACDC’s Back in Black blared in my headphones making me feel a special kind of cool. I was all “fuck you Sandy! Forget the herse cause I’ll never die — I got nine lives, cat’s eyes, using every one of them and running wild.” Now because I’m not a not very cool person, this was all said pretty calmly and also in my head, nevertheless I FELT very badass which is I think all that matters. Many people around me were carrying flashlights, but I didn’t need that pussy shit. I see with my EYES and I am pretty sure I saw a zombie with my badass, non flashlight needing eyesight (turns out it was just a slow moving and very creepy looking old man who was not, in fact, eating anyone’s brains). And yea, I WAS wearing tennis shoes instead of some heavy ass leather boots because I can run and kick ass much easier in tennis shoes, I don’t care how dorky they looked. Unfortunately, half way across the Williamsburg Bridge the lights began to work again and I hazily stepped from my post apocalyptic New York to a well lit boring one, harshly reminded by the lack of zombies/surplus of smiling people that I was not in Resident Evil. The reminder became less harsh when I was realized how tired my legs were and like, fuck in a post apocalyptic world Popeye’s doesn’t exist and then I would have to like kill my own food and just NO. NO NO. NO.