So, internet service is out in my neighborhood. It went down last night, around the same time that a large-ish fire broke out a block from my house. Methinks the two might be related. Me also thinks that BellSouth’s customer service people deserve some kind of medal for being significantly better than the phonedrones over at Cox. And don’t even get me started on Entergy: more than once I’ve considered calling up my boyfriend’s relatives in the Bronx and asking for some favors, if you know what I mean….
If it were any other time in New Orleans history, I’d probably be screaming about these daily “hardships,” but given everything that’s happened, I’m strangely calm. There have been sporadic power outages ever since we moved back, and cable was pretty wonky for a while there, too (though it seems to have gotten over the hump). Communicating by cell is an exercise in frustration. Those of us who’ve returned, we’ve gotten used to these problems. Going without DSL for a couple of days is just par for the course. No big whoop.
The other day, I was trying to explain to a friend what it’s like to be in New Orleans, post-Katrina. People used to claim that living here was like living in the third-world, but in fact, it was more frustrating than that. Before August 29, New Orleanians kinda felt like New Yorkers must feel anytime they leave the city: “Whaddaya mean you’re out of American Spirits?” “Whaddaya mean I have to call back tomorrow and schedule a repairman?” “Whaddaya mean I gotta drive all the way out to BFE just to get fresh mozzarella?” That kind of thing. Little frustrations that added up.
The difference is that now our expectations are lower: we know that stores are open for limited hours, that restaurants have shortened menus, that lines are long no matter where you go, that half of the city is working on a cash-only basis. We’re pleasantly surprised with each little nicety: “Dorignac’s had just gotten in a truckload of gorgeous Roma tomatoes, and there was no one in the express line!” I’ve never been to a third-world country (though I once dreamt I was sold into half-white slavery in Ouagadougou), but I imagine this is what it’s like.
Of course, before we know it, things will have returned to normal and we’ll take all those little niceties for granted again, and we’ll all be just as bitter and disappointed as before. But for now….
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