Yesterday was one of the weirdest winter days ever. It's New England, it snows here, we usually know what to do in these situations. We're not like North Carolina where they get half an inch and have to close school for a week. Yesterday, though, I don't know what the hell was up. People went completely apeshit bananas and jammed up the roads worse than Dick Cheney's arteries.
The snow started around noontime or so. We knew we were looking at somewhere between 8-12 inches over the course of the day, so my coworkers and I kept saying, "OK, we'll go downstairs for our free, fancy holiday lunch and then we'll leave." We went down to the cafeteria, sat around chatting, then went upstairs to shut down and pack up. We had our coats on and were walking down the stairs when one of the facilities people approached and said, "We strongly urge you not to leave yet."
"What? Why?" we asked. "We want to get out of here."
"Look out there," she said, pointing out the front door with her Nextel walkie-talkie. We looked. Taillights. Backed up from the road, into our parking lot. Nobody moving. We work at the top of a giant hill near a reservoir. If people weren't getting out of the parking lot, it meant the whole hill was backed up, and the reservoir ring road. No getting out.
"I'm chancing it," said the coworker I was with. "It's only going to get worse." And she went out the door, just as two wet, snow-covered, beleaguered looking people came in.
"Did you just come from the line?" I asked.
"Yes. Don't even go out there," he said.
I went back upstairs, hauled my laptop out of my bag and turned it back on. No work got done, though. By then we all knew we were stranded, at least for the immediate future. We stood at the windows looking at the same line of cars that hadn't moved in an hour. We watched NECN reports on the flat-screens. We called our people and let them know we wouldn't be home anytime soon. Some of us went out to get a jump on clearing off our cars.
3:00 came, then 4:00, then 5:00. The snow started falling at a rate of 1-2 inches per hour. Reports started coming in that the highway were giant parking lots. None of the roads were treated because the plows and sand/salt trucks couldn't get through. Then there were reports of multiple jackknifed tractor trailers criss-crossing the roads, reports of 30 minute drives taking 6 hours, reports of people running out of gas and abandoning their cars in the middle of the highway. People who had been sitting in the line of cars turned kept filtering back saying, "I waited for 2 hours and never even got past the guard house." "In 4 hours I only made it as far as the next building."
6:00 came, and the reports were only getting worse. The highway was closed in one direction, but we couldn't confirm which it was. We received an email: complimentary pasta buffet in the cafeteria at 6:30, movie and popcorn in the auditorium at 7:30. We went downstairs to eat and the kitchen staff stood by like war heroes. They had made us a feast: three varities of pasta, marinara and pesto sauces, sausages, chicken, and meatballs, salad, rolls, tiramisu, cookies. We gave them a standing ovation when they came out to finally rest and eat. The cafeteria was more crowded than at peak lunchtime. It was like bizarro adult summer camp.
8:00, 9:00. A cop arrived at the bottom of our hill and started turning people back up because it was so treacherous and crowded. When the cop left, people began to brave it. We checked SmartRoutes obsessively, trying to make sense of the colors and symbols. Everything was red and Alert! We called the brave ones on their cell phones and spoke in code "Left is bad but moving. Right is just bad."
10:00 p.m. Finally we got word that the access roads were clear. We made a group decision to go. We all tromped out to help clean off each other's cars and make fun of the new guy from Tucson. The plows in our parking lot generously helped push away the banks blocking us in. Inching along, I got down the hill and onto the highway. It was otherworldly... silent, abandoned cars all over the place, in the middle of the road, covered over, plowed in, hazards still blinking. I passed more than a dozen in both directions. I listened to Loveline, Jay Severin's show having ended three hours ago.
11:00 p.m. Home. Driveway plowed. Thank god.
Today. Sleep late. Work from home.
The snow started around noontime or so. We knew we were looking at somewhere between 8-12 inches over the course of the day, so my coworkers and I kept saying, "OK, we'll go downstairs for our free, fancy holiday lunch and then we'll leave." We went down to the cafeteria, sat around chatting, then went upstairs to shut down and pack up. We had our coats on and were walking down the stairs when one of the facilities people approached and said, "We strongly urge you not to leave yet."
"What? Why?" we asked. "We want to get out of here."
"Look out there," she said, pointing out the front door with her Nextel walkie-talkie. We looked. Taillights. Backed up from the road, into our parking lot. Nobody moving. We work at the top of a giant hill near a reservoir. If people weren't getting out of the parking lot, it meant the whole hill was backed up, and the reservoir ring road. No getting out.
"I'm chancing it," said the coworker I was with. "It's only going to get worse." And she went out the door, just as two wet, snow-covered, beleaguered looking people came in.
"Did you just come from the line?" I asked.
"Yes. Don't even go out there," he said.
I went back upstairs, hauled my laptop out of my bag and turned it back on. No work got done, though. By then we all knew we were stranded, at least for the immediate future. We stood at the windows looking at the same line of cars that hadn't moved in an hour. We watched NECN reports on the flat-screens. We called our people and let them know we wouldn't be home anytime soon. Some of us went out to get a jump on clearing off our cars.
3:00 came, then 4:00, then 5:00. The snow started falling at a rate of 1-2 inches per hour. Reports started coming in that the highway were giant parking lots. None of the roads were treated because the plows and sand/salt trucks couldn't get through. Then there were reports of multiple jackknifed tractor trailers criss-crossing the roads, reports of 30 minute drives taking 6 hours, reports of people running out of gas and abandoning their cars in the middle of the highway. People who had been sitting in the line of cars turned kept filtering back saying, "I waited for 2 hours and never even got past the guard house." "In 4 hours I only made it as far as the next building."
6:00 came, and the reports were only getting worse. The highway was closed in one direction, but we couldn't confirm which it was. We received an email: complimentary pasta buffet in the cafeteria at 6:30, movie and popcorn in the auditorium at 7:30. We went downstairs to eat and the kitchen staff stood by like war heroes. They had made us a feast: three varities of pasta, marinara and pesto sauces, sausages, chicken, and meatballs, salad, rolls, tiramisu, cookies. We gave them a standing ovation when they came out to finally rest and eat. The cafeteria was more crowded than at peak lunchtime. It was like bizarro adult summer camp.
8:00, 9:00. A cop arrived at the bottom of our hill and started turning people back up because it was so treacherous and crowded. When the cop left, people began to brave it. We checked SmartRoutes obsessively, trying to make sense of the colors and symbols. Everything was red and Alert! We called the brave ones on their cell phones and spoke in code "Left is bad but moving. Right is just bad."
10:00 p.m. Finally we got word that the access roads were clear. We made a group decision to go. We all tromped out to help clean off each other's cars and make fun of the new guy from Tucson. The plows in our parking lot generously helped push away the banks blocking us in. Inching along, I got down the hill and onto the highway. It was otherworldly... silent, abandoned cars all over the place, in the middle of the road, covered over, plowed in, hazards still blinking. I passed more than a dozen in both directions. I listened to Loveline, Jay Severin's show having ended three hours ago.
11:00 p.m. Home. Driveway plowed. Thank god.
Today. Sleep late. Work from home.
2 Comments:
That is literally the craziest thing I have ever heard. Meanwhile hardly anybody out here blinked at the five inches of snow we got, which would normally have sent this city into armaggedon-lockdown-mode.
What is this topsy-turvy world we are living in?!?!
Hey you!!!!! I didn't know you were on blogger now, that's awesome. You get an automatic link, way up top :)
As for your comment, everything else in this world is ass-backwards, so why not weather too? Maybe if the dems get back in the white house... :)
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