Clearly I am a thunder god
Jun. 25th, 2016 07:43 pmI went out on my normal Saturday afternoon coffee date earlier. Though since it's the summer I'm not drinking coffee and I was on my own as both the friends who normally join me have serious health stuff going on with family members, so not much of a 'date' either.
Anyway, I drove over to Rochester and as I got closer I noticed the skies darkening. As I parked up the rain started falling, as I got the chair out of the car the thunder started, and by the time I'd stuck the wheels on it was raining pretty heavily. And there was me in just shirtsleeves. So I zipped down onto the high street as fast as I could, and on the bright side the rebuilding I've done on the eBay chair this week makes it handle a lot better, and it's still massively better than the clown chair in terms of ride across Rochester's fetish for bricked roads, cobbles and heritage paving.
I slowly dried out once I was at the George, and what do you know, the thunder stopped and the rain died away. On the bright side my meal was pretty damned good, I went for the special, which was a chunk of salmon the size of my paired fists on a bed of pappardelle pasta with baby tomatoes roasted on the vine and olives. Yummy. Having looked it up, technically, the pasta probably wasn't wide enough to be pappardelle, more of a fettucine, really, but it was liberally herbed and pretty damned tasty. On the negative side they did have the TV screens behind the bar tuned to Brexit news, but they have the sound off and subtitles on, so mostly I could ignore that.
So I paid up and headed out. I'd no sooner set the chair down on the pavement (drawback to the George is both its entrances are up steps), than the rain started again, and as I got to the car the thunder was rolling in again. Soaked for a second time. And of course the clouds followed me home. In fact it was raining so heavily I sat in the car on the drive for 20 minutes in the hope it might ease off before making a dash to the door.
Four hours later and it's still peeing down! You've got to love the British summer.