My window screens writhe in their strait jackets. Irene sends her periodic blasts of rain matter across this sleeping city.

The pelting noise of the rain bands will keep this restless soul wide awake through the day.

In my last posting here I promised (within 48 hours of the incident) an accounting of my experiences regarding the “earthquake” payphone dilemma. But when the National Weather Service announced the hurricane visitation I moved away from my computer and toward Irene, forgetting the “earthquake” and disastrously preparing for my newly-single-self an extravagant Hurricane Feast of chicken, vegetables, sausages, pasta salad, and every perishable hunk of food in my refrigerator/freezer.

I have been eating like a flytrap for 7 hours, waiting through the uncalming pre-storm calm for the torrentialities now stomping through these 5 boroughs.

After last week’s “earthquake” I heard something I have not heard in years, if ever: crowds of people asking “where’s a payphone?”

BULLETIN: There are no payphones where you need them, and cell phone service can not be relied upon during emergencies.

Of course, neither could most payphones, or landlines.

Nevertheless, I believe that (regardless of profitability) public telephones should be available and maintained for public safety in accordance with the “Public Interest Payphone” clause of the Telecommunications Reform Act of 1996.

Until next time, after Irene blows away all the remaining payphones on the East Coast, when I will have a fuller story of my earthquake payphone experience, I think that this picture captures the essence of how it feels to try and find a working public telephone when you really, really, really need one.