I work in the restricted area in Manhattan--on 31st street between 6th and 7th Aves, to be specific. All week, I've watched the police move various obstacles and other items into place.
First were the spotlights, small banks of four to six lights on an independent generator base. These are placed at every corner around the restricted area.
Next came what look like glorified speed bumps, except wider and fatter than any speed bump I've ever seen. We're talking fresh-poured asphalt, folks. They are placed in the middle of the road on every road leading into the restricted area.
The standard blue wooden NYPD police barriers showed up next, clustered together in bunches here and there, ready to be deployed when the time comes.
Two days ago, the windows of our office on the X-teenth floor were inspected (and in some cases locked) by someone official, called only, "the inspector" by our managerial staff when they told us to be nice to him. Guess why he's inspecting the windows. (Hint: arrives in a limo, mangles the English language.)
Last night, for the first time in months, there was a police presence on the thirty-fourth street subway platform that I use.
Then there are the cement barricades, which began to arrive this morning, or perhaps last night. They seem to come in two varieties, one a monstrous, low, fat, oversized white-painted Jersey barrier rip-off, the other a more traditional Jersey barrier, also painted white, but topped with a classy black fence. The first is used to block off roads, or limit access to them, the second is used to line roads that will, I think, be used for official purposes only.
It is all very fascinating, from the sheer number of cops that are on the street, to the fact that construction scaffolding in the area is being systematically dismantled, to the line of ambulances parked on one corner, just down the street from a working fire station.
Penn Station and Madison Square Garden have already been re-labeled for the Repug Convention; the hotel on the corner has attached bunting and a welcome sign to its marquee.
As long as we don't have to deal with anything more than protesters (who I personally welcome), it should be a lot of fun.
I'm only hoping I'm allowed into the office on Monday. And that no bombs go off.
That would really ruin my week.