I can’t believe how easy it is to slip in and out of a life that isn’t yours, or doesn’t feel like yours. It’s only been a few days, and NYC is starting to feel less and less real. As if it didn’t happen.
Day One
Took the redeye to JFK–my first time to that airport. God, anything is better than flying into ISLP. I had stayed up until I don’t know how late the night before–Beaker had kept me company with all his have a safe trip emails. He told me to drink some wine before the flight. I wish I had listened.
As it were, I arrived in NY with maybe about 4 hours of sleep over a period of 3 days. Drowsily, I took the train, then subway (Jamaica station sucks dude…who would live there)? then walked to the Waldorf Astoria. I must have looked so out of place in my witty tshirt and jeans when I walked into the lobby. I called my sis, twi, and she came down to escort me to the Waldorf Towers–the more elite part of the hotel.
I guess I should explain how I found myself staying at the Waldorf Towers. My sister, who is an SEO for the Dept of State (I’m prob messing this all up, so correct me if I’m wrong), was working in NY for almost all of Sept while the UNGA thing was going on. UNGA=something to do with UN peeps gathering in NYC to discuss big world issues and improve diplomatic relations or something. Most of the US govt officials stay at the Waldorf, including the president, sec of state, etc. Which is why my sister was staying there. And which is why I got to stay there…free.
When I arrived, the floor was still secure. Some Marine-like guy (?) was guarding the entrance to the suite of roome. Twi gave him the head nod, and we were in. Woo-hoo! Waldorf!!!! We had breakfast in the elite Towers dining room, where Twi and I did our usual people watching thing. It was a strange mix of peeps. Some UN dignitaries. This weird guy wearing what we believed to be his wife’s shoes (they were too-small wedge sandals w/a huge gold ring in the front)! There were these 2 kids–Muffy and Skip–all prepped out as if they came from the Hamptons, reading their morning paper w/their coffee and crumpet. They weren’t even out of high school…And then there was the group of lost British ladies, swirling around the breakfast table, muttering to one another about which pastry to pick.
Following breakfast–naps. Twi still was on duty, so she had to work here and there. We both took mini naps, then she got up to work. I remained asleep. We had a late lunch at this place Mexican restaurant called Blockheads (they ran out of sockmonkey shirts dammit!!!) Went back, slept some more. By 4pm or so, Twi had decided to give it a rest and we got ready to hit the town.
Being so close to 5th Avenue, we decided to go shopping. First H&M, then some other boutique-y stores, then to Times Square for tshirts and such. We walked all around that place, and then did it 4 more times when Twi forgot how to get to the Thai restaurant she had been to earlier. We almost gave up, then we finally found the fucking place. Filled our gullet. And took a cab back to the Waldorf.
Twi was finishing her work, and I was being lazy again, when all of a sudden Twi rushed in, “have you talked to mom or dad?” She seemed pretty frantic, and I was startled out of my sleep. “No, why?” “Hurricane Rita is a Cat 5 storm–the 3rd largest ever recorded–and it’s heading straight for Houston!” For those who don’t know, my parents live in Houston.
I spent almost an hour tryign to get through to my parents. Then I called my brother. Then my parents again. I pleaded with my mom to evacuate but she wouldn’t leave unless my dad left, and my dad is the most stubborn person on the planet. He was also freaking out like crazy at the thought of leaving all his worldly possessions behind. I pleaded and begged with him, but he was not listening to reason. I handed the phone to my sister and she did the same. By the end of the night, we were all crying and our head felt like it was going to explode, but he promised to leave. It was a pretty terrifying moment. A friend of mine had just survived Hurricane Katrina (and had a ton of terrible stories about her brother being trapped in their house etc) so we were pretty freaked out. Just saying “I love you” was heartbreaking–if Rita hit with any sort of magnitude as Katrina, who knows what could happen. I kept thinking–what if this is the last time I speak to my mom and dad. Fucking mind blowing stuff to have to deal with on a vacation.
After hanging up, Twi and I looked at each other and said, “we need a brewsky to take the edge off.” We contemplated tapping into the 8 dollar beers in our mini fridge…but resisted. Instead we remained glued to the television screen until the wee hours of the morning, praying that Katrina would die down, that it wouldn’t hit Houston, that my parents would be ok.
to be continued
