Earthquake in Soho and Other Musings on Urban Mortality

If ever there was proof that Soho is Jesus' special Manhattan version of the Inferno, today there was an earthquake in my 'hood.

This was not what it was like, and this is not Soho. This IS the first Google Image result for "earthquake," though.

More specifically, there was an earthquake in Washington D.C.  that reverberated across the Eastern seaboard, including NYC.

More after the jump, just sayin'.

In most places, a 2.2 quake would be small peas. 

However, in NYC, 2.2. = your 30 story office building is foundationally unsound and you jussssst now realized what this might mean for your physical safety. WOOPS.

Yep, this is Soho, alright. Note the unnecessary construction/people, all likely and nefariously 

somehow connected with Hollister Co.

So, there I was: optimizing spreadsheets and whatnot (srsly), when the floor began to sway, back and forth and back and forth. A floor dance, shall we say. It was honestly kind of fun, to my naïve person.

 Alas, the many non-naïve, 10+ years-in-NYC Manhattanites felt differently and fled for their lives.

I will take this moment to contemplate “Emergency Escape Plans.” My building is all about “Emergency Escape Plans” wherein people are notified 3 weeks ahead of time that for 15 minutes we will all have to stand outside of the building and act as though we are escaping many many malicious flames in the most anticlimactic, at-least-I-am-not-answering-my-email-way possible.

Fun fact: when your “Emergency Escape Plan” becomes a reality, your escape becomes less “orderly line of bored people walking down stairs” and more like “EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF.”

As an example: as the earth shook below me, I definitely witnessed the owner of my company swoosh by me and out the door with not a word to any other employee of the company. Like, not even a gracious and urgent whisper of “RUN.” She just straight up left.

In an interesting line of succession, my supervisors fled next, also no word to the plebians--and then me (Slavic Survival Instincts, yo) and the designers and other people fled, after a 0.2 second consultation (“BUT WE HAVE SO MANY MORE SPREADSHEETS TO OPTIMIZE...???”)

Yes, we all ran down 11 flights of stairs, in unison. And if this was an actual quake of size it would have been a truly perilous descent. Instad, I rushed down 11 flights of over-reacting people while I mumbled “I WILL NOT DIE IN SOHO I WILL NOT.” while giggling. Yes, giggling.

This is not my building. But, yes, it is stairs, I guess.

Outside, many many hordes of why-do-we-work-in-Soho bitches stood next to and (if they were truly wise, ~sarcasm~~~) across the street from the potentially-collapsing building I work in.

And now I take another moment to contemplate “Emergency Escape Plans.”

Okay, where the HELL are you supposed to go in an NYC earthquake??? Outside and/or “safely across the street (next to other structurally-volatile 20-story buildings)” is fundamentally stupid.

I guess the other instant reaction is: “home,” which is, also, of course, stupid. I mean, average building height in NYC is 12 stories, with the maximum height being like 100 stories. And taking the subway??? Pffft, you are silly, bro. Therefore untimely Soho death is imminent in the event of an earthquake or not-in-Soho earthquake, just sayin’.

I guess the truly wise people would go to Central Park (where only pleasant pedestrian bridges could collapse on you). Alas some of us work below 1^st street and therefore are fundamentally unable to access Central Park in the wake of crisis.

Trees infinitely less scary than large buildings. Thanks, William Henry Olmstead.

Well, whatever musings on my own mortality and/or potential for death in NYC came upon me this afternoon, I can say that my coworkers solution was truly an inspired safety option. Quote: “let’s get lunch, I have to pee.”

Yes, lunch. Soooo rational. Because we all know Cosi and/or Chipotle can’t collapse into oblivion. Just ask Jesus.

Indeed, Jesus was truly on my side as I ambled on to my salad-only, all-female lunch this afternoon. We all survived, amazingly, colon health well intact.

And, yes, despite a very small few of my coworker’s issues with re-entering the structurally unsound, crazily-vulnerable-to-aftershocks building, we did all return to work within the hour. NYC sleeps for no man—even a 2.2. dance-inducing earthquake.

Is it bad that to this moment I think about the earthquake as Soho’s opportunity to do this?

You go, Soho. You go.