By Alyssa Haddad
You guys, it’s hot. I know – am I really going to write an entire piece about the weather? You bet your bottom I am. Because all I can think about is that it is hot. Like, your upper lip lost three pounds of water weight hot. I realize that the majority of Eleanora‘s readership is in Texas, so telling you all that it’s hot is a bit whiny. It’s like when you hear a child crying and you’re like, why are you sad, you don’t have bills.
But here, in New York City, it is impossible to behave like a normal person when it’s hot. It becomes an every-person-for-themselves situation. When Lin-Manuel Miranda wrote the lyrics “there’s nothing like summer in the City” I don’t think he was considering a 120 degree subway platform during rush hour, waiting for a train that has no interest in showing up. There is no relief from the heat. Public pools and beaches are packed to the brim and private pools will drain your wallet. Most apartments don’t have central air. The nights are just at hot as the days.
Vintage NYC summer street style
I’m not anti-summer by any means. Growing up in Upstate, New York, summer is the best time of the year. Every person you’ve ever met has a gorgeous pool and a shady backyard. Nights are spent around a bonfire doublefisting s’mores. You spend your weekends at your friend’s lake house or a local campsite. Summer is for relaxing, using up vacation days, and catching up with friends and family.
But NYC wasn’t built for summer. It’s proven by the recent blackouts in Midtown Manhattan and Southeast Brooklyn. The city essentially threw up its hands and said “I’m out, good luck.” The scent of garbage hangs in the air like cheap perfume outside an Abercrombie and Fitch. New York City’s magic is reserved for the winter. When the smell of pine from the tree in Rockefeller Center replaces that of trash juice, and a stroll through Prospect Park with a hot chocolate takes the place of cancelling your outdoor plans because your sunburn is now a health hazard. If it were up to me, summer in NYC would be cancelled. But since it isn’t, wake me up when the first crunchy leaf hits the ground. You’ll find me laying in front of the air conditioner.
Alyssa Haddad is a Brooklyn-based Playwright and Screenwriter. Her plays have been presented at the Capital Repertory Theatre, Theater for the New City, Sundog Theatre, Kraine Theater, and The Midtown International Theatre Festival where she was the recipient of the Playwright’s Award. She is an alumna of Living Room Theater’s New Play Incubator Lab and a current member of New Perspectives Theatre Company’s Women’s Work Play Lab. She is also an Artist-In-Residence at Adams State University’s Rare AIR program. Connect with Alyssa at AlyssaHaddad.com, on Twitter @AlyssaSwagdad and on Instagram @AlyssaHaddad.