Gary Vura has been wiping down counters and cooking for himself in his Carnegie Hill apartment since his wife and daughters decamped for his sister-in-law’s house in Concord, Massachusetts.
“I haven’t quite figured out how to use the vacuum cleaner yet, but that should happen,” said Vura, a managing director at Guggenheim Securities. “I’m probably doing more of that than I used to. It feels fine.”
He’s working on a laptop at the dining room table. Watching the markets “fills the lack of sports void,” he said. So far he’s made pork roast in the slow cooker, as well as meatballs and shrimp parm.
“There’s no issue getting an elevator,” Vura said. “And I can see a lot of boxes are stacked up downstairs, so people clearly aren’t here to accept them, and the floors are pretty empty. The gym is closed, the doormen are still working.”
Welcome to the world of those who didn’t go to the Hamptons, Connecticut or Florida to avoid the coronavirus pandemic, which has hit New York City hard. They chose to stay on the Upper East Side, watching their buildings clear out, stores close and doormen don gloves. Some want to be near hospitals. One couple’s second home in Long Island is under construction. Others don’t have the option of another place to go.
Now they’re living in a ghost town, devoid of $100 blowouts and tourists crowding the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Real estate activity has slowed to a trickle. Open houses are canceled, and showings of multimillion-dollar apartments -- when they even happen -- are done virtually. The Valentino boutique has emptied its shelves and racks, while some other high-end stores are boarded-up. Frank E. Campbell says it can webcast a funeral service, and will try to procure flowers as best it can, but there haven’t been requests.
Only Central Park has a sense of bustle and the few businesses open are food markets, restaurants for take-out and delivery, pharmacies and dry cleaners.
William Poll, a specialty food store on Lexington Avenue that turns 100 next year, is testing a new truffle souffle it plans to roll out in about a month, said owner Stanley Poll.
Orders by the dozens and half-dozens are coming in for frozen dinners like chicken pot pie and coq au vin, from locals and customers around the country.
“The chicken curry, in two weeks we had to make three batches, a batch is 60 dishes,” Poll said from the store’s second-floor office. “It’s been hectic to say the least.”