Monday morning. Well, at least our internet is back up at work. Friday was a pretty scary day. Here's a recap:

From Friday, May 16

I sat down this morning to check my e-mail and partake in the obligatory Friday morning two hour warm-up to doing any work – a practice which includes offering my roommates shitty trades in our fantasy baseball league that they won’t accept in an attempt to wrest away a star shortstop, reading the New York Times, Talking Points Memo, The New Yorker, checking Google Analytics, and posting something nasty on a message board somewhere out there in internet world. I opened my browser and the New York Times, my homepage, failed to load. I turned off my computer and tried again. No luck! Then, my phone rang. It was one of the IT guys, Chip:

“Are you on the YouTube?” (Yes, our IT guy refers to YouTube with the same comprehension as George Bush who calls Google “The Google.” And yes, usually I am on YouTube at some point, but not today. My homepage wouldn’t even load.)
“No, I’m not Chip.”
“Well it says you’re on The YouTube on our computers.”
“Well I’m not.”

I hung up, and a few minutes later Chip sent out an e-mail: “Sprint says there is something wrong in one of their circuits in our neighborhood. We have no internet access. I will update you when it is fixed.”
It is now 3:09 pm. We still have no internet.

9:37: A half-dozen attorneys and partners wandered out of their offices over the past thirty minutes to ask if we, too, had no internet access. Yes. Read your e-mail. I haven’t seen the upper ranks so disgruntled since the time our coffee machine broke because someone poured water into the wrong hole. And that just got replaced forty minutes later.

11:08: I’m so bored I’m doing work. I can see my Gmail in basic HTML view. I have no new mail. Otherwise, still out of contact.

11:19: I have no more work.

12:48: I’m leaving for lunch. Usually, I am for 1:30-2:00 as the start of my lunch hour. My deli clears out and I’m pretty much the only person there to read and eat in peace and quiet. But today I need to get the fuck out of here.


That's as far as the running log got before everyone freaked out and smashed their computers hoping to plug the wires directly into their brains for internet connectivity. It didn't work.

In further news, my friend Ike and I went to an LES favorite, Schiller's, last Thursday and met a couple of women who work for the UN. We asked them if John Bolton had been as big an asshole as he seemed. "Oh yeah," they said, "huge asshole, we all hated him." Then we asked what countries' delegations had affairs going on in-chamber. There were a lot! I'd tell you, but these people do have diplomatic immunity. We all saw Lethal Weapon 2. So I'm not tempting fate.

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