A Brie Grows in Brooklyn

A Tiny Apocalypse

Unless you live in a hole and/or are dead, you know by now that New York City is about to get hit with a hurricane, the likes of which has never been seen.

Normally, when the media reports on storms, they inflate the threat. Dangerous weather systems make for great TV. But this storm looks like the real deal. Already, on the Jersey Shore, water levels are as high as they were during Hurricane Irene, and we’re still 36 hours away from the center of the event.

I woke up to a mid-morning that looked like early dawn, or the bottom of the world. The sky was gray, and the light was dark.

Now, the wind is picking up, and the areas surrounding us are being evacuated. If this storm isn’t a big fucking deal, I am going to be very disappointed.

Beach Bonfires And Shit

When Caleb and I decided that we wanted to go to the beach at 3pm on Saturday, everyone decided that they might not want to come.

“Isn’t that kind of late?” Shark asked us.

“We want to be there for sunset,” I told him.

“I’ll call and ask Emily if she still wants to come,” he said.

Both Caleb and I wanted to go late because we hate the direct sun. Caleb because he’s a vampire, and me because I am a fairy. “Sookie, your blood is especially delicious,” he says to me whenever we make love.

Now that we have a car, however, we frequently find that other people are at the mercy of our desires. “I’m the ringleader!” Caleb has taken to shouting. “I’m the daddy!”

Which is why, I guess, everyone, despite their protests, showed up at our apartment at 3pm on Sunday for a drive to Fort Tilden. The weather was cloudy, threatening of rain, but the air was still warm and humid.

A Day At Fort Tilden

In the past few years, Fort Tilden has become the preferred beach for Brooklyn hipsters to go to on weekends, for a variety of reasons that include proximity to bike paths, relative inacessibility, no lifeguards, topless bathing, the promise of food trucks, and the “x-factor” bonus of abandoned old army bunkers covered in fucking killer graffiti. I say that with deadpan meant to convey sarcasm.