The Great Electric Divide: A Tale of Two Sidewalks

You know what's worse than losing power? Watching your neighbors across the street living their best lives while you sit in darkness like a medieval peasant.

Here I am, three hours into my unexpected candlelit evening, watching Barbara from 43B across the street making smoothies in her perfectly functional kitchen. I can see her blender mocking me through her window. The street has become the Mason-Dixon Line of electricity, with their side living in 2024 and our side apparently cosplaying the 1800s.

I've already eaten all the ice cream to "save it from melting" (let's be honest, I didn't need much convincing), recharged my phone in my car twice, and had several existential conversations with my houseplant. Meanwhile, the other side of the street is probably hosting a rave with their functioning Christmas lights from last December that they never took down.

The worst part? Their WiFi networks are still showing up on my phone, but they all have passwords. It's like seeing an oasis in the desert, except the oasis is protected by a digital fortress.

Send help. Or at least a really long extension cord.