New York city, two weeks earlier

It seems an age ago when Lin Kiat and I were in NYC. I'm looking at some of the photos we took and I wish time were always on our side so that we could return to the days we loved best.

The blackout hours weren't the most fun, but they were a lasting experience. Lin Kiat and I were watching The League of Extraordinary Gentleman, waiting for Alan Quartermain to meet the rest of the League. Before he could face his summoner, the screen went black, as did the theater. Folks around us groaned in frustration and I heard popcorn whizzing past me. A minute later, the emergency lights came on and Lin Kiat and some guys went out to ask when the show would continue. He returned none the wiser. Five minutes passed and an AMC employee entered to apologize for the blackout in the entire building and to announce that the show would be back on in ten minutes.

We waited for fifteen and then walked out. I had a feeling we weren't going to get our show back and I was right. All the other patrons were streaming out of the building into a crowded street (more crowded than usual). The lights on the billboards and the traffic lights were out and we heard people exclaiming that it was an island-wide power shortage. Cell phones didn't work, traffic was at a standstill and some people took to walking in between vehicles to avoid the jammed sidewalks. Wherever streets were empty of vehicles, pedastrians filled them, like water rushing to fill nooks and crannies.

Lin Kiat and I walked for what seemed like an eternity (it always feels that way when one has a full bladder) in the hot NYC air towards the Singapore Consulate where we hoped to find Lin Kiat's sister, Christine. We were shoulder to shoulder with other disgruntled New Yorkers and tourists. A girl beside me exclaimed to her friend that it was so hot she wanted to strip. I was past caring and just wanted to find the Consulate toilet.

At the Consulate, we were welcomed by the Singaporeans working there. I went to the toilet with a flashlight while Lin Kiat received congratulations from Chrsitine's colleagues, all of whom had heard about the wedding. (Heh, it was so nice to be fussed over.) We waited in the dark lobby for Christine to return (she'd walked to her apartment to leave us a note in case we had gone there first) and were very glad to see her when she arrived. She and her colleagues had to prepare the Consulate for an early closure so Lin Kiat and I stuffed ourselves (okay, I did the stuffing) with leftover cheesecake rescued from the fridge and watched the people on the streets as they sought their way home. Across the street, a darkened bar was filled with the laughter of people relaxing and drinking up the last of the cold beer and wine. Why rush home when there was alcohol that needed consumption?

Armed with a portable gas stove and a bottle of water, Lin Kiat, Christine and I finally made our way back to her apartment where one elevator was still working, thanks to the building's own generator. We were on the eighth floor and had little to fear (that's what I say now, of course). That night we lit candles, took brief, cold showers (thank goodness there was still running water on our floor), cleared out Christine's fridge and had a mini steam boat with some red wine. It was just as well that Lin Kiat and I were in NYC with Christine. Our own apartment in Ann Arbor was far less equipped for a blackout - we hadn't any candles or a gas stove or food, for that matter.

Outside, the world was dark, save for the headlights of slow-moving vehicles and a few windows glowing with candlelight. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the heat and all the walking.

By the time power returned to the city a day later, Lin Kiat and I were ready to get out and do more walking. We went to Sunday mass at St. Paul's, paid a visit to the Strand bookstore and wandered through Soho.

We spent the last day in New York at a museum and walked through Central Park, chancing upon a saxophone player underneath a pretty bridge.

We were a little lost when we heard the sonorous notes of the saxophone, one of the last lovely moments we had before we made our ten-hour drive back to Ann Arbor.

Posted by Monoceros at August 29, 2003 4:44 PM