The Vortex Bar and GrillPeople often look at me quite incredulously when I tell them that I must have written 60 pages of my Master’s thesis sitting here at the bar at the Vortex Bar & Grill in Midtown, what with all the people talking and loud music. I can see why you might think that’d be a counterproductive environment, but compared to a quiet coffeeshop where you have no choice but to pay complete attention to the conversation at the next table about who gave whom chlamydia and you have to keep getting up to go outside for a cigarette (not that I do that anymore), the numbing din of a bar where you can smoke and swill beer to take the edge off the torture that sits in front of you is actually quite nice. And what’s most important in the productivity arena, I couldn’t access a single encrypted wireless network at the Vortex. No internet, no goofing off, no reason not to write about crack.

Yeah, I said “here at the bar” for those of you paying attention. One of the old servers just HAD to check his email to find out the secret password for the freaky-deaky nightclub tonight, and now I know the encryption key to the Vortex’s wireless internet (to be used for business purposes only, of course).

Oh, I am so screwed.



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