Last weekend, The Girlfriend and I were about to sit down and have a nice, peaceful evening watching porn. Unfortunately, the weather gods seemed to disagree with this plan and unleashed a fury unseen by California before.

We were at my house when it first started to rain. She was concerned about have some uncovered items at her house, so we hopped into the Almighty Honda and drove over to her place. As we covered up her barbeque grill and lawn furniture, the rain was a light drizzle--but certainly not anything noteworthy. She went inside looking for something as I went around to the back to cover her bicycle when it happened. It went from slightly drizzling to chaotic downfall in a matter of moments. It took no more than a few seconds before I was completely drenched. Deciding that the cost of an unrusted bicycle wasn't worth the price of a cold, I abandon the task and made a b-line to her front door.

The Girlfriend's house (much like my house) has a hanging canopy over the front door. Unfortunately, the runoff from the roof flowed over this canopy, creating a waterfall as gargantuan as Niagara. I had no choice to race through it--and it felt like someone dumping a bucket on me.

All in all, I was soaking wet even though I hadn't spent more than a minute during the downfall.

After deliberation, we agreed that we had to return to my house (her computer was there, as well as cell phone, and chapstick). I opened the front door and saw that there was a two-inch deep river of water in our path.

"Do we really hafta go," I asked.

She looked at me and said: "Could you spend a night without your cell phone or computer?"

Two minutes later--feet wet--we were sitting in my car.

I drove to my house with the windshield wipers on full blast. As I turned down my street, my car immediately entered a puddle that had to be at least six inched deep. I gave the car more gas as I tried to push through it only to discover the pool grew deeper. The lake rose to a foot high as the Almighty Honda started to stall. I gave it more gas--for the first time in my life wishing for an SUV. Somehow the car pushed through and made it to my driveway. That's the beauty of an inclined driveway--water never collects on it...unless it rains really, really hard.

When I got out of the car, I discover my driveway wasn't high enough and my feet were four inches below water. I stood in the downpour--feet underwater--and wondered why I was wearing sandals.

My yard and the rest of the grounds around my house flooded--easily covered by at least an inch of water. I knew I was gonna have a colossal mess in the morning, but still couldn't help but be fascinated with the flood. There was water, water everywhere--filthy, dirty, bacteria-laced water.

Once inside, The Girlfriend and I resumed watching our porn. A few hours later--after the rain let up--I peered outside and discover the flood was gone. I guess that's what happens when too much water comes at once. My street must be at the low point of my housing complex--'cause everything seemed to drain there. And I knew the storm drain was clogged (it had weeds growing in it--I know 'cause I was admiring it just a few days before hand). But I guess that's just to the sorta thing that happens when living in SoCal.

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