Because Rain makes Corn. Corn makes Whiskey. Whiskey makes me happy (and drunk). The roads start flooding and dirt roads start bogging up, an excuse for me to put the Suzuki into 4WD and go a little crazy.
Today was the first time in a week I’ve been back at my Parking Attendant job. Having skipped the last two shows due to the car situation, I came back this week to work some hours over at the venue formerly known as N.P.S.R. It was a country concert, sold out, and with only 20 people plus temp workers from a Richmond-based company, it was going to be a very long, annoying day. Understaffed, with a large crowd, what can possibly go worse?
Well, at around 1550-1410 EDT, it got, to a lot of my coworkers, very much worse. The clouds had been spelling doom and gloom all afternoon. Heavy, laden with water, and dark. The wind was picking up and as we started to park Alpha and Foxtrot parking lots, I felt a drop on my nose. A rather fat raindrop, followed by another. And another. Then silence. I had my arms outstretched at the point of Alpha, pointing concert goers down the right lane to which they would be funneled into our rather efficient method of parking cars on an unpaved, gravel and bare-earth surface. Glancing to the right, dirt from the particularly dry parking lot was moving at rapid speeds due to winds, and around me. A split second of clairvoyance, my thoughts were confirmed as suddenly myself and everyone around us was met with a wall of heavy, fat raindrops.
People who seconds ago were ready to party, dove into their cars, as I blinked and exhaled, blowing the water flowing down my face. The wind picked up, I shivered in my reflective vest and red employee t-shirt. My khaki pants and pristine white shoes starting to absorb the water. Keeping my arms up and pointing the lucky patrons, watching as some expressed some sorrow at my ordeal. Some laughed, mimicking my obviously scarecrow-ish pose, a human directional sign. A traffic cone filled with a soul. I didn’t care for those, never did actually, even before today.
But the rain kept coming down. Sheets and sheets. After a few minutes I donned my poncho, the wind starting to cut my skin with the grit and the coldness. It offered no protection from being wet. I was already soaked. But it helped kept me warm. A supervisor relieved me and I ran back to my car, a small distance away, and got out my umbrella. Not some cheap, dollar-store variety, but one with a solid core, strong metal arms, and two canopies overlapping to allow air to pass. I held it horizontally as the rain came, as Forrest Gump would say, ‘from the side’.
So I stayed in such a pose. Both hands keeping the umbrella steady as the line of cars continued to come. My shoes becoming buckets to immerse my feet in. Just continuing to do my job. It was a sold out show, and we were understaffed.
But for that glorious hour. I was like a kid again, playing in the rain. And definitely kept my spirits up, higher than he clouds themselves.
Rain is a good thing.