This week I'm working from my organization's New York office, which recently moved from Soho to the Financial District. The good news is that I now feel slightly less shabby--no matter how hard I tried to look cute in Soho, I always felt like I was wearing stonewashed jeans with pleats and a shirt with a big soup stain down the front.
The bad news is that the Financial District, while diverse and bustling if corporate during the day, is a tad dystopic at night. The streets are deserted except for cops with machine guns guarding the New York Stock Exchange. Big metal ramps--the kind that would stop a speeding suicide bomber's car, I guess--blossom like mushrooms in the middle of the street, and there are squad cars and ominous black SUVs everywhere.
This morning, the giant American flag that covers a third of the Stock Exchange's facade had been replaced by a giant Visa ad that said, "NYSE takes Visa."