New York is Leaking

That was a lot of rain earlier this week. Walking to work became more of a mission to not step in a big puddle than anything else, and because I have cat-like quickness I was able to make it to work without getting too wet on Monday and Tuesday. I think it probably would make sense to keep an extra pair of socks at my desk for those rainy days. On Tuesday it was raining pretty hard and I went to pick up some food to bring back and eat at my desk, which is what I do every day. On my way back I was thinking about two things: avoiding stepping in puddles and how good my veggie soup would taste. Well I got a taste. A taste of about a gallon of puddle water splashing up from the street into my face/mouth. Luckily I had a full length trenchcoat on but NY puddle water to the dome was still demoralizing. I'm sure I drank a gallon of swine flu, and on top of that I smelled like wet dog. The rain never lasts forever though. Rain gives way to sun, and sun in turns gives way to grease.

Yes, grease.

It was Friday, moderately slow at work, and two friends from my program suggested that I join them for a sit down lunch. "Like sit down somewhere that's not my desk?" I ask incredulously. Scandalous, sure, but eating a Chicken TBM at Cosi would surely be better than eating at my desk, with my thumb on ALT and my index finger on TAB, toggling between the NYTimes and some spreadsheet that gives me heartburn. Cosi was great and I even grabbed a couple of those excellent, warm, salty, flatbread samples they put out while you wait in line. Ah, life was good, and then I get to the corner of 46th and Park, right across from my office and I'm looking at the ground and there are a hundred little specks of black, so I look up and from high above I see little droplets of oil raining down. I inspect my black Patagonia jacket and lo and behold I'm covered in grease and I smell not like a wet dog, but perhaps a wet dog who is a mechanic. The white shirt I had on as well...ruined. I love Patagonia, and all their products and their customer service and their eco-friendliness, but when the technological geniuses who designed my jacket picked the materials, they weren't thinking about whether their materials would be grease-repellent.

Over the next half hour I contacted the Helmsley building management company who put me in touch with the construction company, who then put me in touch with a guy who texted me quote "Can you meet me downstairs. I work for the mgmt company. I am wearing a black leather jacket". I figured this guy would either make my problems disappear or fit me for a new pair of concrete boots and make me disappear. Instead, with a cigarette hanging from his lips while he spoke, this fellow apologized like I imagine many NY construction workers do, peppering in four-lettered expletives amongst sympathetic sentiments. He said he'd get a check cut for me "for my troubles". All told, my damaged goods probably would run me about $300, but this guy emails his assistant to cut me a $400 check. Not bad. So Monday, hopefully, I'll have a $400 check in my hand. And hopefully at some point in the next week I'll have a new white buttondown and a new Patagonia jacket and an extra $100 worth of tacos.

I'm sick of the rain. Regular and of the grease variety. It's Halloween tonight. This week has already been strange enough, but I'm ready for the weirdness to continue I suppose. Bring it on. But first a nap.