Based on the title, my documentation is not going to be the poignant, heartbreaking experience that some people had during Hurricane Sandy. But it was certainly a memorable experience for me and definitely not something I would like to go through again. And really if something like that does happen again--New York is fucked.
So in typical first-world fashion, I paid no heed to the warnings about Sandy. I was too busy prepping my costume for the Halloween parties I was to be attending that night. After a trip to American Apparel with the Pubs, it was finally ready--80's tennis player, complete with scrunchy, sweatband, and retro tennis dress. I even had a racket case to carry around as my purse. It was no White Swan, but it still looked pretty awesome. Guy Work Friend met me at my apartment, as well as JM with some weird dude she had met following her around with puppy dog eyes. Luckily he was not coming with us to the party we would be attending.
Now the Pubs and I had been seeing each other more and more since the kiss outside my apartment door. We were hanging out at least a couple of times a week and I had invited him to attend the party, which was in my old stomping grounds, the Shwick. I was a bit nervous about this though, since no one at work knew about our romance.I hadn't even told Guy Work Friend and he was going to be hanging out with us, drunk, the whole night. I guess I overlooked the fact that GWF would be as drunk as us so he was none the wiser. Plus we were all pretty distracted by how shitty this party actually was. It was a giant rave at an old warehouse off the Morgan Ave stop. I guess it's fitting that I always end up at warehouses on Halloween. Me and the rest of Brooklyn--the line at the entrance was huge and once inside it was jam packed. We lost everyone else we were with almost immediately and I was pretty certain that moving through the stairwells was going to turn into version 2 of the trampling at the Love Parade. Every floor was so crowded we could barely make it to the dancefloor and once there could only stand it for just a few minutes. Getting to the bar was bad and forget the bathroom line. The outdoor space wasn't much better and I was pretty disappointed that we wouldn't be able to jump on the giant trampoline.
I'm not sure how long we stayed but the three of us reached our breaking point at the same time and Irish exited. On the way back to the Morgan Ave subway stop Pubs bounded all over the place in his costume (the boyscout from Moonrise Kingdom). But I was busy having a drunken yelling fit at some idiot kids who had been at the stupid rave with us, which I'm sure really impressed Pubs. He still agreed to go back to Ave C with me and we tried to play it cool in front of Work Guy Friend as we got off at the same stop together. And that was my Halloween ladies and gents. It's my own fault for agreeing to go to a rave in the Shwick.
But at least this year it wasn't me going to brunch in my Halloween costume--poor Pubs is the one who had to sit through brunch with me, Atl and her friend SA, wearing a boyscout uniform. On the way we noticed that the neighborhood was much quieter than normal for a Sunday morning. While eating we saw the announcement that the subway was shutting down that night. Not long after we all started getting emails that work would be closed the next day. I still thought that everyone was overreacting like they did during Irene but I was a little surprised that water was completely sold out at both the grocery store and Duane Reade. Not knowing what else to get, I grabbed a couple packs of trail mix and headed to the bodega where I paid $20 for 2 liters of water. I didn't actually think we would lose power. I thought this would be over the next day and was pissed at myself for leaving my rain boots at work. I was going to need those rainboots to go to the bar during the supposed "storm", which was my plan. This plan would be ruined as well. To be continued....
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