As you may have heard, the East Coast got some rain this weekend, which affected a bunch of people’s abilities to get to work. Goldman Sachs employees who reside in the city and work at 200 West were given vouchers for car service for this morning’s commute, though, according to Heidi Moore, everything was booked by last night, and some people were left slumming it on the subway with Mayor Bloomberg or hoofing it downtown. Citi employees were given remote access to the network in order to work from home, while those determined to make it in got their pick from of a box of rollerblades, wrist guards, and elbow pads left in the lobby of 388 Greenwich on Friday afternoon, among other “transportation alternatives” they were offered. Many of those who live in Connecticut (and Westchester) and work in New York or vice versa most likely stayed put this morning, on account of Irene seriously fucking up the Nutmeg State, battering roads and putting the BarCar out of commission. Some of those who did get in shared a closer look at how the weather affected their routines, like Susanne Petronella, who didn’t have time to put on her face.
Petronella, a floor clerk for GI Brokerage at the NYSE, lives in the borough of Queens. She drove into the city with four other people over the Brooklyn Bridge. “I’m usually still in bed right now,” she said in front of the NYSE before 7 a.m., while smoking a cigarette. “My hair’s not done. My makeup’s not done.”
One guy thought the lack of humans downtown was great, and welcomed whatever further natural disasters it would take to make this the norm.
Phil Prothro lives in Jersey City, New Jersey and left his home at the usual time, arriving in Manhattan by PATH train. “It was actually a pleasant commute,” said Prothro, who works at GDS International. “No problems at all. It was on time and empty, and I was expecting it to be late and full.” He said Wall Street was more empty than it normally is. “This is very unusual,” he said, while waiting for an egg and cheese sandwich from a cart at about 7:40 AM. “It’s how I wish it was every day.”
Then there was Duncan Niederauer, whose morning was an absolute nightmare. Read more »
Planning on getting out of town most weekends the next few months but not going points further than a 300 mile radius? Perhaps out East, on Shelter Island or Martha’s Vineyard? If you answered yes, please be sure transport doesn’t involve helicopter or, god help you, a car, because roads as a means of transport have been declared “over.” Read more »
Are you a financial services hack who treks into the city every day from points further north or perhaps does the reverse commute to Southern Connecticut? As you may have heard, your life is about start sucking a whole lot more. Read more »
The following entry is by a Dealbreaker reader who shall remain nameless, who counts himself among the contingent making the daily trek between southern Connecticut and New York. In short, it’s the rules that must be abided if you hope to survive the jungle that is the Metro North New Haven commute. Whether you’re a neophyte who just moved out to CT or a resident who just started a new job in Manhattan, someone for whom none of this currently applies but fear it may in your future, or you’ve have been doing this trip for years and have your own tips to add, enjoy.
Just before the turn of the 20th Century, Metro-North Railroad’s New Haven Line carried home its first pack of ambitious, southern Connecticut natives from New York City.
In just over 100 years, this 90-mile stretch of rail has blossomed from a novel idea into a daily constant in the lives of hundreds of thousands of travelers. These people aren’t tourists. They’re longer impressed by the splendor of Grand Central Station’s ceiling astrology. They don’t have time to snap pictures of the giant American flag. And they don’t care if the “Oyster Bar is really good!” These people are men and women, young and old who, day in and day out, brave the true horrors of the New Haven Line so that they can chase the American dream. To those riders I say, “I am one of you. I feel your pain. This guide is written in your honor.”