Yesterday at the end of my 8 hours of toil, I stood up and peeked out of my cube. The sky was dark! What the?!!
I headed for the bike locker; the sky was ominous, and I could see rain coming down in the not-too-distant distance. The wind was gusty. Oh well - I'd already been wet twice since morning. (Both times in the shower.) I forged ahead. Made it maybe 1/2 mile before the rain started falling.
I took refuge under a bridge for a couple minutes and called home with the cell phone. No answer; I left a message - "PLEASE put the extenders on our rain gutter downspouts!" (Sometimes when it rains hard, we'll get a little water in the basement if we don't move the roof-water a little farther out on the lawn. Turns out nobody answered because everybody in the household was out on the front porch, watching the thunderstorm.)
The rain let up a bit, and I rode on. The respite was short lived - as I rode over that same bridge, it was pouring rain and the side wind was pushing me. At least it was still warm. And my "fanny pack" is fairly water-resistant, to protect the contents.
At the end of my 20-minute bike ride, I was as wet as I'd been in the shower, and my clothes and shoes were equally wet. Oh, well - that's the occasional price to be paid when you ride a bike every day. I put the downspout extenders in place, and took refuge inside. By 45 minutes, the storm had blown through and the sun came out again. (My shoes were still squishy-wet this morning. I'm wearing another pair.)
This morning the outlook was much better. We had overnight rain, and the pavement was damp but not wet.
I headed for work, taking a route that is slightly longer but oh so much more pleasant, through Ann Morrison Park.
As I rode in one direction, I saw a couple approaching from the other direction. Nothing unusual there; happens all the time. But just as I got to them, suddenly the underbrush on the side parted, and their big dog came bounding out, right into my path! I braked hard and rode off the path; fortunately I didn't go down. (I'm too old to be slamming into the hard ground - that's a pastime for the young bucks.) As I rode away, I suggested they should put their dog on a leash.
The fella replied with that ever-persuasive "F*** you!!"
What the?! Hey, jackass - I'm not the problem - you are the problem.
I did a U-turn and rode to them and said, "There's a leash law - you are breaking the law, and if your dog causes me to crash, there will be a problem."
The woman pushed against me and said, "Please just go! My husband is a vet, and has P.T.S.D." And indeed he was making his buggy-eyed World Wrestling scary-face and acting as though he wanted a piece of me. (Oh, brother!)
The woman did tell him to put their dog on the leash. And I just went.
So much for the ever-pleasant ride through the park. I felt like telling the woman, "If you can't take your dog and your psycho husband out in public without endangering other citizens, maybe you better keep 'em home." I'd much rather deal with bad weather than big unpredictable animals - both canine and human.