A scene in the hail

Yesterday I walked to Lower Queen Anne. It's three miles and takes me about an hour. It had been raining right before I set out, so I considered taking an umbrella, but then I decided it was really only showers anyway, so I'd just risk it. About halfway to my destination, however, I heard a tremendous thunderclap behind me. I looked back, and there was a massive wall of black clouds over Ballard and Fremont. Uh-oh. Thunder usually means a downpour, and those clouds looked absolutely loaded. I hastened my pace.

Heading toward Mercer I ran across a couple of homeless guys. "Did you see that lightening?" one of them asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm running."

"I'm scared!" he laughed.

My luck held. As I hit Queen Anne Ave a few bits of hail started sprinkling down, but it was only after I entered Uptown Espresso that the deluge descended. The black clouds suddenly dumped the biggest load of hail I've seen since I can remember.

"Good timing," said the barista.

"I can't believe it waited until I got inside," I said thankfully.

And then it started hailing even harder. We both stared out the window in amazement. In fact everybody in the cafe was looking out the window. People got out their phones to take pictures and videos. As we all stood around watching all hell bust loose, suddenly a guy jumped out into the street outside and started prancing around in the hailfall. He was naked to the waist.

"The good ol' Mecca," said the barista, referring to the infamous bar across the street. We all watched the guy with big grins on our faces. Nature called, and he responded, do si do your partner. I was just sorry I wasn't drunk enough to join him. Sort of.