sometimes things just work out that way. out went the lights. aaaaand scene. it seems fitting, appropriate, destined for me to emerge again once the lights came on, blinkly softly, marvelling at the gorgeous green of a stoplight, the soothing whir of a cash register, the life-affirming rumble of the subway. yawn and stretch and try to come to life.

interestingly enough, we were last. the very last neighborhood in manhattan to have its power restored. at 9:03 p.m. on Friday. not that this really impacted me, given that i was only home for about 20 minutes during the entire blackout. and anyways, that is jumping to the end. and we all know the end. power on, life returns to normal. blah, blah, blah. and we all know the beginning. power off, life descends into chaos. blah, blah, blah. what was interesting was the in-between.

i was in the jury lounge when it happened. i know this is a blatant rip-off of coupland and generation x, but whatever. sue me. actually, i had been napping. yes, napping at work. again, sue me. i emerged, blearly-eyed and stumbling, into the darkness of our workspace, befuddled. no one knew what was going on. eventually, the building informed us of a blown transformer across the street and asked us to evacuate. down 30 floors in brand new flip-flops, (yes, open-toed shoes at work, sue me), us workmates parted ways one by one, one to nearby downtown, the next to the ferry and jersey, the next to the manhattan bridge and brooklyn, leaving just me to trudge uptown, block by powerless block.

once i reached houston, i knew something bigger than a blown transformer on wall street was at play. i was able to get through to my parents in alabama, who threw on cnn and began feeding me the news. huge northeast blackout. several states and canada. as far west as detroit. armed with that info, and fairly certain that this was gonna last awhile, i began to plot my course. find folks, get drunk. fortunately, when i got home, i was able to reach ms. rfo on her cell, who was a tad wigged and exhorted me to come on over. i cleaned out the leftover chinese in the fridge (this was the only perishable item, yes, a bachelor's life for me, sue me), packed a bag and headed crosstown. oh, sidenote. the brand new flip-flops have burned such holes into the sides of my feet that when i arrive at home, the insides of the straps are caked with dried blood. i still have band-aids on them. those new gel kind. cool.

shopping in a supermarket by candlelight is a humbling experience. of course, my biggest concern was about the lack of coffee for the morning, and i vowed to purchase a french press first thing once the lights came back up. i guess i could have settled for instant but this didn't occur to me until today, like that stellar comeback that dawns on you hours after defeat in a verbal spar. once we had acquired foodstuffs that came in boxes, bags or jars, we proceeded to get spectacularly drunk in the streets, just like everyone else. living in manhattan, you forget that there are stars in the sky. but that night, they never seemed brighter.

morning dawned to the mayor's press conference, informing us that there was power above 42nd street and given that neither of us had much cash at this point, we decided to head uptown for an atm before they were bled dry. stumbling out into the daylight, the scene was reminiscent of 28 days later. empty streets laced with garbage. breaking the silence, i hear someone calling my name. it is my best friend, from his bathroom window. he joins us, as we venture onto a city bus, heading toward power and cash money. after procuring significant sums, we wander about trying to assess how far this restoration of power stretches. we end up in times square, where there is a huge sign in the window of 1515 broadway that reads, "no trl today, thanks for coming." after a hearty laugh, we head inside sephora, the only business open on times square. of course, it is. beauty reigns supreme, eh? some eye contour serum later, we head down to battery park and the waterfront, figuring that would be cooler than anywhere else, as we play cards and wait for power.

we were on a city bus in tribeca when the lights came back down. "street lights!" i exclaimed, excitedly. others looked outside, dispassionately, non-believers. but as we progressed uptown, where more and more lights were on, our fellow passengers began to participate in our waves of joy. i even found myself tearing up. and swearing to obey traffic signals. this promise, of course, lasted about five seconds, as i crossed brazenly against the newly-revived lights, in our rush to get home to air-conditioned comfort.

this is my story. now the lights are on.

-finn