Sweat and the City

by Gwen Cooper — August 11, 2007

As a girl who grew up in Miami and only later moved to New York, it never fails to astonish me how New York City shuts down in the rain--or, at least, when it rains as hard here as it did yesterday. I woke up at around 5:00am yesterday to what was, for me anyway, the reassuring sound of thunder and rain hitting the windows (we get so few good thunderstorms here in Manhattan). I took a peek outside and saw what appeared to be the wrath of God. I hadn't seen so much rain since the last time I got trapped in one of Miami's tropical storms.

As many of you probably heard on the news, NYC's mass transit system was thrown into utter disarray. The subways weren't running, commuter trains were unable to get into the city, and the buses were completely overloaded.

If life were like a romantic comedy, it would have been the perfect opportunity for a spunky young heroine to be pushed headlong into the arms of some handsome young potential hero--two strangers forced to share a cab, for example, or two people accidentally toppling onto each other when an overcrowded bus lurches away from the curb. Irritated at first, their eyes meet as each of them realizes their unexpected new companion is unexpectedly attractive.

But life isn't a romantic comedy, and what I saw on the streets yesterday wasn't so much an arena for potential new couples to "meet cute," but instead what looked like established couples engaged in irritation-inspired screaming matches. Nothing throws people off their game like a sudden disruption in travel plans--and the fact that the disrupted travel plans yesterday forced any number of people to walk for dozens of blocks on one of the hottest, most humid days on record only provided more fodder for confrontation.

I passed one couple arguing over an available cab--his office was uptown and hers was downtown. Which way should the cab go first? "I entertained your parents for three whole days last week!" the woman shrieked. "And you didn't do a damn thing to help! You could at least spare me the aggravation of not getting to my [expletive] job later than I already am!"

"Why shouldn't you do more work at home?" her companion retorted. "I pay twice as much of the rent as you do!"

Hands off, ladies: He's aaaaaaall hers....

People tend to associate summer with vacations and travel and the much-longed-for summer romance. And if one is to believe writers like Faulkner or playwrights like Tennessee Williams, the higher the heat index climbs, the more sticky, sexual tension there is in the air.

I'm sure that's true sometimes, in places where people aren't dependent on mass transit systems and don't have to walk twenty sweaty blocks on baking-hot asphalt to get where they're going. But I think there's a reason why you don't see too many romantic comedies or sexy novels and plays set in Manhattan in August.

Gwen Cooper is the author of Diary of a South Beach Party Girl, recently published by Simon & Schuster. To read all of Gwen Cooper's posts in "The Dating Life," click here.