When Hurricane Irene finally blew through the city Sunday morning as a mere tropical storm, many New Yorkers were left disappointed. No, not primarily because of the inconvenience of suspended Subway service, the annoyance of a flooded basement or the over zealousness of a few public officials, though there was plenty of that, too. No, these New Yorkers were angry at Mother Nature for not putting up more of a fight.
“I have to say, if we’re going to be stuck inside for 48 hours, I was hoping for at least more excitement,” Carly Frasier Doria said yesterday afternoon, the sun shining from the clear blue sky as she was returning from a Starbucks run at 43rd and Sixth, Frappuccino in hand. “It’s good nobody got killed, I guess. But a little more excitement would have been good. Not so much that anyone died, but enough to keep things interesting.”
“The worst part was that they shut the subways down,” her coworker Emily Turner said, sipping on a grande. “Even though it was boring, there was nothing to do. You couldn’t go visit your friends.”
“All the bars in Dumbo were closed,” corrected Ms. Frasier Doria. “That was the worst part. I really needed a cocktail. And the next morning, there was no coffee.”
Irene was no hurricane. It wasn’t even a tropical storm, it turns out. It was a case of tropical depression.