Manhattan-The forgotten City... Hoboken-The Lost City

I had heard that the beds at the Bejamin were comfy but had no idea just how comfortable till it was 9 am and we were being woken up from a deep sleep by Trav’s Dad calling to make sure we were still alive. They had been without power since 11pm the night before. It took a second to shake the latest dream and a pending hangover, from reality as we tried to come to grips with our surroundings. The room was dark, the television was still on (which meant we still had power) and Bob, the dog, was still asleep at our feet. Everything seemed completely undisrupted. How could that be? Did we just completely snore through a massive natural disaster?

It appears the natural disaster chose to bypass Manhattan. I peered down on the still empty streets below and there were no signs of damage or flooding. Not even a large puddle that the news could work with.. absolutely nothing. It was still raining but not more than usual for an August Sunday morning. I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was a tad disappointed. Up until this point, Irene seemed to have threatened to bring it on but had retreated at the last possible moment leaving a mix of emotions in her wake.

I was disappointed and hung over. Maybe disappointed that I was hung over but whatever. We had packed our entire apartment and fled into the city (which then resulted in Trav having to be called into work continuously) and wanted a little something to show for it. A knocked over tree, a little wave action from the Hudson, maybe some ya-who doing backstrokes down 3rd ave. C'mon, give me something I can write about... but nada. We hoped Hoboken had fared the same.

We reminisced and filled in the gaps regarding the night before. I was right, things got a bit crazy and a bit weird. The restaurant was still packed when I went down to grab a seat at the bar and wait for Trav who was still running all over the place. Sheets of rain pelted the glass windows and no one seemed to notice. I was engrossed in several conversations at the bar with several weirdos, none of which were staying at the hotel. The majority of them lived several blocks away- too many to walk in a supposed hurricane. I had also heard that Manhattan was under a curfew after 9pm and had even filmed the empty streets at 9:15pm to prove it, before heading down to the bar (see video below. It's dark but the sound is on so you can hear the wind and rain).  I thought it seemed odd that everyone was so oblivious to the curfew and could care less how they were going to get home. Of course all major transportation had been shut down. Cabs, if out at all, were forced to follow a strict fare schedule that included a straight fare of $10 within their zone and an extra $5 if traveling from zone to zone. Asking a cabbie to follow rules of any kind, especially in a hurricane, seemed like it would surely diminish the quantity of those willing to risk their lives driving some drunk 50 blocks in zero visibility. Apparently I was the only one concerned but as the conversations carried on through weird twists and turns, I figured, they probably deserved whatever they got. I was finally saved by one of Trav's manager's girlfriends that was also staying at the hotel. Finally feeling comfortable in conversation, the beer kept flowing until we realized that the staff was actually forced to kick out a large group of bozos after 2 am. Since the hurricane was then projected to hit around 3 a.m. , we all came upstairs equipped with glow sticks (you know, just incase), and continued the hurricane festivities. Unamused, we all decided to call it a night. I guess Irene did as well.

The broadcasters on the news never once mentioned how Hoboken had fared through the night. They were far too concerned with backing up the politicians former treatment of this storm, knowing that New Yorkers surely would want someone to hang for the anti-climatic showing of Hurricane Irene. I can only imagine the next time they try to evacuate 300,000 people for a supposed hurricane. Talk about the boy who cried wolf. To make up for it, they only covered the coastal towns that had something to show for the storm's destruction. They did make one mention that Hoboken had indeed flooded, which was treated as a normal occurrence, because it definitely is. They said that residents that did not evacuate were ordered to stay inside, don't even walk your dog, as power lines had fallen into the flood waters and there were fears of immediate electrocution. Awesome.

I had a bad feeling all morning. I thought at first it might be the Ommegang witte, steak tartare and corn risotto having gotten well acquainted in my belly the night before. But it had to be something else. I tried to find more information on Hoboken. How could it be that no one had any updated information? And then I saw it. The worst images I could have imagined but deep down had already concocted in my mind. The following were posted all over Hoboken411.com (the best and apparently only Hoboken news source) and they just happen to be taken of our street!

It’s the worst flooding I’ve ever seen and our apartment and new furniture were surely in the midst of it, if they even existed any longer. I tried to reach my slumlord and super in a panic but no answer. Maybe they had drown. Who knows. My stomach sank as I pictured my valuables that must’ve done the same. There’s no way what we had done to prepare our apartment was in any way preparation for this. Hoboken was the new Great Lakes and I was stranded on an island with no news.

I finally reached the Super and could tell by his tone what was coming next. He was truly sorry. He had worked through the night to do what he could but his efforts proved fruitless as the water came through the doors, windows and up through the floor boards to flood our apartment. He said nothing was floating but I didn’t want to hear anymore.

It’s honestly too much. I can’t figure out why that bitch Irene has it out for me. I’ve cried because I’m sad. I don’t know when we can get home or what will be there when we do. I’ve yelled because I’m mad. I’ve felt like I’ve been treading water here since I can remember and I’ve finally been drowned. I’ve drifted into blank stares because I’m numb. How much can one take?

Time can only tell

While the storm stops, a new saga begins. How do we get home? And is it even home anymore?