Tips from Hurricane Irene blackout zone: Coffee shops, crowds, crazed commuters

Telecommuting is trickier than it looks from disaster zones, especially when the power is out

By Kevin Fogarty

Go ahead and feel relieved the storm wasn't as bad as it was supposed to be.
Don't worry that having all your power out for days, feels like an actual disaster. It's just annoying, not a catastrophe, but it's your disaster and you get to own it. Just like the weathercasters who overpitched the hurricane and left most of the East Coast feeling bruised from the weather and disappointed by it at the same time.
Telecommute. Especially if you have anyone at home who would have an easier time with you around. Days without power is a legitimate problem – not a disaster, not an emergency in which every second counts, but a legitimate crisis you should be around to help solve.
Realize that you're not alone. That's not a statement of unity, it's a warning. When the power is out, a whole class of knowledge worker – most of them fully equipped to work from home or the road – are adrift. They can't work from home because there's no power and batteries die. They can't work from the same wifi hot spots as everyone else because there's not enough bandwidth or chairs. They stumble blindly, following rumors of better power or bandwidth. Bandwidth, you'll find the crowd, taking all the good tables, saturating the wifi. It's not like a sick day when you're the only one out. Everyone is out.Using up your wifi.
Coffee shops are the first option for wifi access and a comfortable environment, but they come with caveats:
If you're trying to get online early, like 5 a.m., the only places open serve a lot of "coffee, regular," (milk, two sugars) to guys picking up breakfast for the guys at the job site and not a lot of macchiato. Few have wifi.
The wired places open at 7 or 8 and charge twice as much for coffee that tastes exactly the same, but the muffins are a lot better.
Wifi cafes aren't braced for the influx of a semi-permanent population of power-outage refugees, who fill up the workspaces, then the "relax" spaces, then spill out onto tables on the sidewalk, where the signal is weaker and sunlight washes out text on their screens.
Informal brokerages open as financial-services people grow bored with complaining in loud whispers at the speed of overcrowded wifi and start making deals for whatever assets are closest to hand.
The best seats (away from the door, at a table, near a power outlet and the coffee-pickup spot) are available for money or favors ("Anyone have a three-prong adapter?"). Soon the smart money gives up on the squishy chairs that hurt your lower back after an hour of typing, and move to the upright chairs at small tables down the narrow hall leading to the bathroom. Bathroom access is key.
As the morning not-a-commute goes long, baristas get more bitter.