As Hurricane Sandy prepared to wreak her ungodly shitpunching havoc upon a defenseless New York City, NYU students were likewise preparing by purchasing gallons of alcohol and scores of condoms in order to be fully stocked for the impending lock in. I, on the other hand, had traveled to the Upper East Side on Sunday afternoon to partake in a bro-tastic football fest so I could track the progress of my fantasy team (we lost). When I heard the news of the Subway shut-down, I unleashed my proverbial “fuck it” attitude and proceeded to order a shitload of buffalo wings and cook bacon. My girl-bro and I proceeded to go to the grocery store for some essentials, and while most people were stocking up on water and canned goods like it was some scene from “The Day After Tomorrow” or any other shitty disaster movie, we boldly stepped up to the counter with nothing but a case full of good ole’ Budweiser (remember, I said essentials). My girl-bro and I spent the next 24 hours watching “Fairly Odd Parents” and “Strange Sex” on Netflix while drinking a metric fuckton of beer and other intoxicants.
When the ties settled on Tuesday morning, we were bombarded with news from NYU that all operations would continue to be closed for the following day and perhaps the rest of the week. My immediate reaction was “Holy shitballs, I get to drink more than usual this week!” But in reality, this meant displacement for the greater majority of the NYU community, as I and many others were evacuated from their residences. Fortunately, my girl-bro was harboring refugees back on the Upper East Side and I was delighted to find a fellow bro and my slam-piece taking part in the shelter offered by said girl-bro. Unlike the “I Am Legend”-esque shitstorm taking place in Lower Manhattan, Upper Manhattan seemed almost normal except for the bare-naked grocery stores and the nonfunctioning public transportation. So, what proceeded to transpire is exactly what you would expect if you lock two bros and two chicks in one room: a fucking awesome (awesome fucking?) time.
But count me lucky. Apparently a handful of my NYU compatriots have not had such a time down at the student life turned refugee center, which is one of the few places in lower Manhattan (all of which can probably be counted on one hand, and all of which are probably NYU owned) that has power and running water. According to sources in the trenches, power outlets are scarce and internet connections are clogged. Students are corralled in small meeting rooms or just left to the hallways to stumble around like zombies, or allocated to the penthouse event pavilion where war zone cots extend wall to wall. The food being rationed is allegedly better than the normal dining hall fare, but many still choose to venture toward the light of uptown for pizza and food carts. No rumors of theft have been circulating, except for alumnus Alec Baldwin stealing everyone’s attention in a surprise appearance Wednesday night to lift the spirits of the hopeless. On the whole, it’s just a lot of sitting around and waiting for news from NYU officials.
That’s not to say I’m not sitting around and waiting for news, too—I just have a hefty haul of Halloween booze to float through the weekend. And N64, and stupidly loud music, and—oh yeah—a slampiece of internet’s-darkest-corners proportions. A lot of other displaced students have ventured to other parts of the city or even gone so far as to leave the state entirely (my roommate is currently holed up in Hartford), and they’re likely doing the exact same thing as those of us who stuck around for the storm.
An unexpected week of liver destruction and limitless boning definitely keeps a dude sane, but I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t ready to return to normalcy, if only to be sure that we can all get back to that work-hard-rage-harder state of mind. Overall, I would say that the NYU community as a whole is very fortunate not to be completely screwed by this menopausal Frankenstorm. If anybody in the tri-state area is in need of alcohol or shelter, we’d be happy to assist.
-- Nick and Sam.