It rained today, without warning.
Not just a sprinkle either, or a shower, or a dusting, or a cutesy little bit of drizzle.
Full on, proper, drenching, the-ground-is-slippery-and-I-am-wet-now rain. Deceitful rain.
Because I checked the weather apps, you best believe that I checked the weather apps before I left my house. And let me tell you, there was no talk of a sprinkle, or a shower, or a dusting, or a cutesy bit of drizzle, let alone full on proper drenching the-ground-is-slippery-etc rain.
There was no talk of rain at all! Not a single mention, not even a throwaway 10% chance, a meteorological liability waiver, a climatological covering of bases, an aerological hedging of bets.
No rain, I was told. NO rain. NO RAIN.
22 and overcast, they promised, no rain until Thursday.
Oh how stupid I was. What a dumb dumb idiot. The signs were there all along. I should have known the second I stepped outside.
There were gray clouds EVERYWHERE. All over the SKY!
Oh, I should have trusted my instincts. I should have listened to that little voice in my head, that little voice that remembered Year 8 Science when Mr Loschiavo taught us about weather cycles, the voice that told me those clouds look ominous, Dan, those clouds look like they could’ve absorbed a whole lot of condensation, and are hence ready to redirect that condensation back to the ground in the form of precipitation.
Oh, I should have heeded those words.
But instead I heeded the words of that other little voice in my head, that credulous little Voice that remembered 5 minutes ago when Apple Weather told us there would be no rain until Thursday, that credulous little voice that told me those clouds are friendly clouds, the type of clouds that haven’t absorbed a whole lot of condensation, and aren’t ready to redirect anything back to the ground in the form of precipitation, and I know this because Apple Weather told me so.
Apple Weather lied to your face, you credulous-voiced little sucker.
Those clouds weren’t friendly clouds. They were RAIN clouds.
I budgeted for 22 and overcast, provisioned myself with shorts and thongs and my stylish Alt & Neu tote bag that doesn’t have a zip.
And what happened?
My toes got wet. My toes are wet right now as I write this. My toes are wet!
Do you know how humiliating it is to have to wet toes on a day that was supposed to be completely dry? Do you know the sheer SHAME you feel when you sit down at the library and notice that there’s WATER in the little webbing bits between your toes, the very same little webbing bits that you were TOLD, nay ASSURED, nay GUARANTEED, would remain dry until you next chose to shower?
This isn’t going to turn into a serious piece, by the way.
Oh, were you thinking that this was maybe just a humorous hook, a funny little lead-in to a more sophisticated reflection on themes or arguments or ideas?
Were you maybe thinking that all this stuff about the rain was a metaphor of some kind?
Far from it mate. I’ll tell you right now - and (unlike some other promises today) you can take this one to the bank - there are no themes here, there are no arguments or ideas to be found, this whole rant about the rain isn’t a metaphor for anything.
There’s no nuance in this piece, no deep truth about life that in some poetic way mirrors the experience of being rained on when you don’t expect to be rained on.
There are no secret layers of meaning here, no subtle juxtapositions or word associations, no comparisons that you, the reader, are being invited to draw.
There’s no nuance. Fuck nuance. This is a nuance free zone.
This is a zone to talk about the RAIN.
Good old Mr Loschiavo