Excuse Me, Have You Seen Noah? It's Important!

It's always interesting to see the burg you live in splashed on the national news. And, although it's not the best of news, at least it's not for a child-molester, corrupt elected politician, or a hurricane. True, a tornado is never a good thing, as I feel for those poor folks who had their houses torn asunder, cars tossed about like Scrabble tiles, and lives disrupted. But it could have been so, so much worse. Not one single fatality, not even a serious injury.

We had witnessed torrential rains inundate our area since very early Thursday morning. Solid walls of precipitation had been falling non-stop. Sleep was hard to give up, no matter how many times the snooze button blared it's warning. The best slumber occurs during rain, with a few boom-booms thrown in for good measure. Driving to work was more of the same, only more so. There's one section of 98 near Gulf Breeze High School that floods with two inches of precipitation, and we'd already had five (sometimes it's good to drive a truck). Later in Pensacola, a section of Main Street near the Waste Water Plant (hold your nose), always floods, and again, doesn't disappoint.

We're all at work talking about the torrential rains, the near-dark skies, and blah, blah, blah, when one of the salespersons gets a call from a friend at the Naval Air Station. There's a report of a tornado touching down there! Only a couple of miles away. Everyone heads to their computers, since there's no TV or radio at work. Reports start coming in about funnel sightings just down the road. Our delivery people charge into the store reporting seeing chaos while crossing the Bayou Chico bridge, cops scrambling all over, all the while talking with that giddy, hyper chatter of people who have witnessed something remarkable.

The tornado bopped around, hitting here and there and heading north, toppling cars in a Target parking lot, and peeling roofs off of taco joints. All exciting stuff, reminiscent of hurricane stories I've lived through, only smaller in scale. And the rain continued unabated. And on, and on, etc.

Waking up Friday morning, things were as usual. Rain pitter-pats conspired to make me hit the snooze button way too many times. Tap, roll over, luxuriate. First, to the "bladder evacuation facility", to the kitchen to hit the coffee ON button, then back to the bedroom to see what I could wear on "casual Friday". Stroll around, set up the ironing board, smell the sweet aroma of coffee. Pour a cup, savor that first sip, let loose that sigh of "Oh my God, coffee! Sweet!" Then, a sound interrupted my reverie: drip.....drip.....drip. Within 5 seconds I spot the cause of my interrupted bliss. There is plaster hanging from my living room ceiling. Fuck. Fuckity-Fuck.

It's not too bad. Only a wet rug, but damn. Now I have to contact the office. There will be people coming into my sanctuary to look around and judge (just like we all would) while I'm not there. I can't just take the day off for a one-foot-square of ceiling hanging there.

But I can postpone going in to work a little while. And now, I have to straighten up. That cereal bowl has to go in the dishwasher. Those clothes tossed casually next to the linen basket have to be actually inserted inside. Back to savoring that cup of coffee. No rush to iron that shirt now. Better take some pics with the cell phone for proof. Stroll into work an hour late, no biggee. God, I love my job sometimes.

Anyway, 26+ inches of rain later (yes, 26+ inches of rain in 2 days) and things are back to normal. Kind of. Except for those unlucky enough to be in the path of a tornado.