The East Coast is getting pummeled this weekend with a massive storm. Unfortunately the forecasts are only predicting 6 inches of snow for the New York City area this weekend, but 6 inches is better than nothing (that’s what she said?). I love the snow. I have no idea why as I’m not a particularly outdoorsy person. I think it’s probably because everything is so peaceful and pretty when it snows. The calm after the storm after everyone is at home, and watching the snow fall. It’s almost meditative.
The benefits of storms in the city, especially when you live uptown, is that the power almost never goes out (now it probably will, but it hasn’t in the last 8 years I’ve lived uptown) and nothing closes. Maybe the neighborhood bar will close at midnight or 2am instead of 4am, but the corner market is always open, and the diner is always open. They don’t call this the city that never sleeps for nothing.
The subways never shut down either. So you know what’s happening if they’re wrong and the storm is massively bad? We’re putting on our boots, hopping on the train, and playing the lottery for Hamilton. When tourists and people who live outside the city are unable to come in to do things like play lotteries, you hop on the subway and you make the most of it. Freezing snow and ice be damned.
Since 300 people will likely have the same idea, we will probably end up snowed in at my apartment drinking tea and coffee and hot chocolate, or braving the storm for a block and a half and grabbing a hot toddy at Amity Hall or The Hamilton.
Bring it on, snow. Bring it on.
I read the Tumblrs of ladies who are on the dating scene in and out of New York City and more than occasionally I am shocked and awed at how OK some ladies are with being touched by strangers. Not guys they’ve been speaking to on OkCupid or where ever for a while, but guys they’ve just met in a bar. They talk about Dude X or Y putting their hands on their thighs or whatever like it’s validation of how hot they are and that it’s not completely (in my humble opinion) inappropriate.
I went to my neighborhood on Monday night to wait out the storm and watch it get bad (spoiler alert: it never did). I love going to bars with a book, having a pint, eating something, and talking to strangers. I talked to the few people that were in there for the long haul for quite a while and one was flirting with me hardcore. I was not flirting back. He kept putting his hands on my thigh, hand, and back and each time I’d tell him not to touch me. He’d just keep doing it and then apologize right after.
He also took to calling me “sweetie,” which I also told him to stop immediately and, of course, he didn’t listen. When he asked for my phone number, I declined to give it to him (obviously) but I felt bad so I told him to find me on Facebook. I ignored his friend request.
Twelve hours later I woke up to an email from my account associated with this blog. He Googled my name, found this blog, and emailed me. I guess guys things that a refusal to give out a number, followed by an ignored friend request, is an invitation to cyber stalk and email you.
I emailed him back nicely and told him that no, I don’t want to see him again and for these reasons. He seemed apologetic and I felt kind of bad.
But not really.
“The furious hoarfrost bearing down upon us knows neither mercy nor reason, and all within the five boroughs will perish, cowering in their brittle dwellings.“
Best Mayor ever. I can’t wait to hear it!
Mayor de Blasio Performed a Dramatic Reading of That Onion Blizzard Story