end of the world, in four parts
End of the world, in four parts
Driving along the Meadowbrook Parkway, there are signs that read Coastal Evacuation Route. Except I don't see those words. I read the sign as, Hey, head this way if Long Island is suddenly being deluged by a tidal wave. But I have to tell you, traffic is hell. You may as well stay home and drown in the comfort of your own bed.
After I passed one of those signs yesterday, I got to thinking about tidal waves. Suppose they (they being any enemy of the state) dropped a bomb in the Atlantic Ocean, just for the sake of totally fucking with us. Tidal waves and earthquakes ensue. I live four miles from the ocean. I'm pretty much fucked in this scenario.
Even if there was some warning, a general announcement like you have one hour to get the hell out of the way, I doubt I would go anywhere. Like the imaginary sign in my head says, I would much rather die in my own home, clinging to my loved ones, than drown while sitting in traffic on the Grand Central Parkway, trying to get off the island. Or maybe I would head over to the Marriott Hotel, check into a room on the top floor, and hope for the best. I already sat in flood waters on the Long Island Expressway once, when I was about 14. We saw a coffin drift out of a hearse. I'll pass on having that experience again.