And it wasn't because we didn't pay our electric bill........

Dear Ether, 

August 2003.  New York City.  I’m living in Manhattan with the Big Apple Beauty until yet another one of my visas is approved for England.  It is SWELTERING outside.  And in the East Coast of the United States in August that usually also means humidity—like the bloody AMAZON!  It’s like an unremitting furnace.  Big Apple Beauty, thank goodness, had air-conditioning in good ol’ #1403. 

We had made plans that day to go to the Lower East side (we lived on the Upper East side—-the total opposite end of the city) to go and get a delicious deli lunch, visit the famous pickle lady who sells the best sours out of a barrel on the street (you could die from palette joy!).  We also wanted to check out some of the groovy shops and funky new cafes that had been opening up down there.  Both of us had been complaining that we were SO lazy and unmotivated.  That we always made plans and never stuck to them.  We had made this date over a week a go, and rain or shine (and what shine it was) we were going to schlep down there and keep to our schedule.  I wore a nice vest-top, skirt and refined flip-flops with a heel and she wore trousers and a T-shirt and sneakers.  We were set to go.  The second we stepped out, we were soaked.  I mean, thank GOD for deodorant.  But we marched to that Subway station, and dammit, we made it. 

We poked our head into some cute boutiques and then got completely waylaid by this famous bra shop.  The shop, owned by an Orthodox Jewish couple, was known for brand name underwires for bargain prices.  AND, the wife could take one look at your boobs and tell you what bra size you should be wearing and type you needed.  Basically, a really ghetto Rigby & Pellar.  The store was a total dive, had no air-con and Big Apple Beauty and I were sweating while a stranger fondled our breasts.  It was…..errr…..charming to say the least.  But hey, anything for a deal, right? 

Pleased with out new over the should boulder holders, we walked out onto the street and noticed proprietors of shops standing outside of their properties and people rushing to grab taxis.  It looked like Armageddon.  We went up to a shopkeeper and asked what was going on and he told us that the whole city had lost power.  Too many people had overused air-conditioning and busted the system.  Shit.  Okay.  That meant it was going to be sweltering in the apartment, and we didn’t have a fan, but it’d get fixed soon enough.  All we had to do was hop on a bus and get home.  OH.  RIGHT.  The city was in a deadlock.  The streets were filled with people walking and no cars or buses could pass.  The Subways were dead because of loss of electricity.  You have to remember we were at least a 2-hour walk away in bad shoes, horrible heat and in with a mass of other desperate people.  The worst part was that convenient store owners who had cold water hiked up prices to $5 a bottle.  People were fainting on the sidewalk.  It was hideous.  Big Apple Beauty, no youngster, often felt lightheaded.  We’d hop on a bus—packed to the limit—just to have a break and some air-conditioning.  The bus, of course, wasn’t moving. 

I’d say we left the Lower East side at around 4pm and didn’t get to the Upper East side until at least 7pm.  At that point our feet were bloody and blistered.  Big Apple Beauty couldn’t take her shoes off because they had swollen so badly.  To make things worse, we were really badly dehydrated.  You have to remember, we NEVER ventured that far EVER.  Of all the luck.  The day we get motivated, and look at our reward! It was really eerie seeing the city, one so famous for its skyline, pitch black.  The heat did not cease, so we sat by the East River to try and get some of the breeze.  All you saw were candles flickering all around.  It looked like it must have done during the 19^th century. 

Of course none of the lifts worked in her building, and she lived on the 14^th floor, so we had to walk with a doorman and a torch up steep steps in a narrow corridor which was a heat trap.  By the time we reached the apartment we both were so sick.  The water had been turned off, so no showers to get rid of the sweat and using the toilet was dangerous!  We only opened the fridge when necessary and we sat listening to a radio dripping wet in her stuffy apartment looking out of the window seeing a million other people with candlelit flats doing the same thing.  Eventually the power came back to certain areas, but not until very late in the evening.  There were many people (elderly mainly) who had perished.  It was the worst blackout since 1977—and even then it wasn’t as bad as in 2003. 

I don’t wear that bra anymore.  But when I did wear it, man, it was like a badge of honor.  I earned that sucker.  Big Apple Beauty and I swear, no matter how tempting the pickles are or the lingerie bargains may be, we can’t imagine going down to the Lower East side again.  That place was literally hell…actually…probably hotter than. 

Dedicatedly yours, 

—One of 365

Not the bra I got from the joint in the Lower East side.....but this million dollar baby made of diamonds is how I think of it when I look back on how much it cost me to get it!