Rain All Day (Part 36)

This morning E-dawg asked if I’d ever again be in a good mood which I found rather offensive considering all I had said so far was that it was miz outside. This is a practical concrete fact, not a glass-half-empty kind of thing. It’s impossible not to be irritable when it’s mid June and sleeting outside. If some dude were to set up a folding table and some socks scarves and sweaters on 2nd avenue today he’d be sold out in an hour. Two cups of hot tea and a coffee later, my nose is still cold. Dan came by and said he was so cold he felt like a girl. Huh? Oh that’s right we’re always the cold ones. Not today sucker, as we browsed through the racks of unredeemable tacky short sleeved printed shirts in Daffy’s. He asked about long underwear. Of course there’s no long underwear in mid-June. It’s supposed to be all hot and shit. You’re supposed be wandering down steamy city streets, pausing to cool off when a stranger chuckles and says, “Hot enough for ya?” You laugh with him and secretly roll your eyes ’cause he’s the tenth person today who’s said that. “Will that sentence ever get old?”, you wonder to yourself while discreetly checking your shirt for sweat stains.

But not this year. This year you look like a weirdo with your Duane Reed socks pocking out of last year’s sandals. Tomorrow I am looking forward to my first summer concert, Blackalicious in Prospect Park. But will the weather be friend or foe? Enemy or ally? Flowers and butterflies or mud and slime? Weather.com keeps changing its prediction from intermittent thunderstorms, to PM thunderstorms, to up-your-ass thunderstorms.

And anyway I’ve been pretending to be in a good mood for like 3 weeks now. I can’t believe this isn’t obvious, if anything nominations should be flooding the Academy.

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