Last night I sat in traffic for several hours while people stared at the darkening skies like a duck in thunder. Finally, tired of waiting for everyone to get their shit together, I got off the expressway and headed the rest of the way home on surface streets.

The rain hadn’t started yet but it was hella windy, so there was debris flying everywhere. The dry weather and a lot of farms having recently harvested and disced fields there was some kind of dust. I came up on a bicyclist I could barely see- he was pedalling furiously back from the liquor store to his trailer with a 24 pack balanced on the handlebars, and the wind was causing him to change lanes at random- and the blowing dust must have been incredibly painful

So I fired up the phone, put it on repeat, and played “I believe in a thing called love” all the way home. Justin Hawkin’s squealing voice and guitar made it all the more surreal and enjoyable.

Stopped at the local gyros place for some deep fried mushrooms and cheese sticks for the wife and daughter. While I was waiting a vagrant came in and ordered a sandwich. I showed him the weather pattern on my phone and told him he only had to wait about an hour to get free of the weather.

Later, I listened to the thunder as I drifted off to sleep, happy that nobody was making buffing wheels out of my pecker.