Talk about the weather

I went to the glorious city of my birth for a family do today. All morning the weather station was going booga booga booga, scaring me with their forecast. What a storm there’s going to be, they claimed. Be afraid, be afraid.

The day was sunny, and everything was hunky dory through our family reunion lunch hour. I headed for home with only a few drops falling. I drove and drove, and suddenly I was turning into JAW Fan. Stupid alarmist fools at the weather station, I grumbled. Trying to scare me. I hate you people, I said with a sneer. I was already planning on calling JAW Fan later to say, those annoying scaremongers at the weather station…how I hate them.

But then…approaching the Champlain Bridge, it hit. It was soooo bad. I could barely see the road. It was awful. It crossed my mind that I could be the subject of one of those oddity news stories: The woman who drowned in her car. People still talk about the guy who drowned in his car on Decarie a few years ago. I was sure I following in his wet foot steps. Glug, glug.

I got home and there was a bit of water on the basement floor, a sure sign of a heavy downfall.

Well, I survived. But it was not fun. Not fun at all.