The Flood

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I was over at MIT this evening, running some rehearsals for The Vagina Monologues, completely unaware that there was no water until one of my actresses mentioned that she couldn’t shower in her dorm. As it turns out, a water main broke on Broadway, right in front of the Marriott, causing most of MIT and a good part of Cambridge to be without running water for the evening. After rehearsals, I headed over to Putz to hang out with a pair of foolios. Being hungry, we headed up to my neck of the woods where the dihydrogen-monoxide was still flowing.
But first, we made our way to the scene of the incident to survey the damage, dodging the firemen at the hotel by going around the back. It was quite the sight — a small bubbling geyser in the middle of the street, which had turned into a river. I couldn’t quite gauge how deep it was, but I’d guess 6-8 inches from curb to curb. We were pretty much at the head waters of the newly formed Broadway River, but from what I could see, it’s mighty waters flowed down for at least a block or two.
We left the river and headed down to the T, where we discovered that the main power was out. The lights that were on seemed to be running off of the very loud backup generator. On the plus side, since the card swipes on the turnstiles weren’t working, our ride to Davis was free. Which doesn’t mean much to me, since I have a T Pass.
During our hearty meal at Redbones, we had a water fight*, perhaps to celebrate the fact that we had the luxury of wasting it, while those back at MIT were stuck with nothing. And now I’m going to take a shower because I can.
* When I say that “we” had a water fight, I mean that Fucking Amal was spraying us with his straw.

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