Ever have one of those days – or weeks – where you feel like there’s a little black cloud hanging over you, raining down on your head?
Some friends and I had that problem last Wednesday. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a feeling.
I hate to think I bring the rain with me, but apparently I do. I may never get another invitation from them.
After getting home Wednesday evening, I got a call from a co-worker inviting me to the apartment of her mother, who also is a co-worker, for a swim. It had been a hot day and I didn’t have any meetings that night, so I jumped at the chance to not jump into a pool.
I say “not jump into a pool” because I’m too much of a chicken to jump into water. I ever so gradually – think snail – slide down the ladder, preferably into water that isn’t even close to being over my head.
When I left Pulaski, the temperature on the Walgreens sign was reading 88 degrees. That was better than the same time the day before when it was 95.
As I made my way to Dublin I noticed the clouds getting darker and darker. I was hoping it wouldn’t rain, but as I turned into the parking lot of her apartment a few drops hit the windshield.
“Maybe it’ll just be a quick shower,” I thought to myself. I headed to the pool, where everyone else was already in the water. I removed the t-shirt and shorts I was wearing over my bathing suit and dropped them on one of the deck chairs, then slithered into the pool, in the eight-foot end – definitely over my head. I proceeded to cling to the side of the pool for a while.
I hadn’t been in there long when raindrops started falling on our heads; and these weren’t the pleasant ones B.J. Thomas sang about. These were bullets – big .45 caliber bullets that cause concussions. We threw a pool float over our heads to protect them from the shelling.
Luckily one of my friends remembered our clothes and towels. She hurried over to put them in our bags and stuff the bags under the chairs.
We didn’t get out of the pool or put our belongings under a shelter beside the pool because it was only going to be a quick shower, right?
Fast-forward about 15 minutes and water was gushing from the apartment building downspouts. At least that’s what I was told. Without my glasses I could barely see the building.
We could see that in some directions there appeared to be no rain, but the clouds over us showed no signs of moving at all.
After about half an hour, two of us decided it was time to get out of the pool.
I had planned to dry off in the sun before having to get back in my car to drive home. We sat under the narrow shelter, hoping we would at least drip dry.
My towel was far enough under my clothes (inside my beach bag) that it didn’t get too wet from the rain spilling through the slats in the chair it was tucked under. The others didn’t fair as well. Theirs pretty much ended up sopping wet.
So as we sat there under the shelter, hoping against hope for some sun, we watched the numbers drop in the temperature display on a nearby electronic sign.
It was 85 degrees when I got to the apartments. It was about 73 degrees when we got out of the pool.
“I never thought I would be glad to see a wet towel,” one friend said as she draped it around her shoulders in an effort to warm up. The woman who lives in the apartments announced she was heading inside when it reached 70 degrees.
I guess we sat there another 15 minutes or so, watching the rain slack off and then return in downpours, before we finally decided the rain wasn’t going away and we were as dry as we were going to get. By then it was 69 degrees.
We all ran for our apartments and cars and headed back home. As I drove down Route 11 toward Pulaski, the heat blasting in my car, the rain and sky got lighter.
There were large puddles beside the road on the north side of Dublin. Before I made it to Cougar Trail the pavement was completely dry.
As I passed the Pulaski Walgreens store, the temperature read 78 degrees.
We didn’t get much sun at our “pool party,” but we definitely got cooled off.