Been on this earth for 33+ years and never had a tornado warning. Then I move to the burbs and wouldn’t ya know, we ain’t in Kansas anymore, it’s fucking New Jersey and I’m looking out my window trying to determine that if one of the trees outside my house were to fall, then which direction would it go?
I dunno about the rest of you, but that shit was such a mind-fuck last night I don’t even know where to begin. It was right around 9 O’clock and I decided to take my old ass to bed so I can be up in the morning with the baby, when all of a sudden the emergency broadcast system lit up my house with the most annoying noise of all time. I straight up thought we were getting robbed. I kicked off my slippers and sprinted downstairs ready to defend the fuckin’ wall when I saw on the TV that there was a Tornado warning in the area and that I should take shelter. Well, fuck that. I treated it like you do a Fire Inspection in your office building. When they say it’s a drill, you don’t budge from that seat. You let everyone else go to the tutorial in the lobby and then ask for the cliff-notes when they get back. Where’s stairwell A and B? That’s all ya need to know. (*disclaimer, my Dad is an Ex-Fire Captain for the FDNY so I got my shit on lock, so relax.)
Anyway … Nobody said the burbs would have me bunkered in my basement.
I immediately looked outside and didn’t see jack shit. Not one fucking leaf was moving on those trees.
Naturally I wikipedia’d the shit out of tornados and whether or not they make noise when approaching an area. I felt inherently dumb typing that it, but it had to be done. I got a family to protect. After a while I determined that I was knowledgeable enough on the subject to determine that the house was safe. I was basically Bill Paxton in Twister. All knowing when it came to the F5 …
My wife was all like … “You think we’re good?”
… and I was all like …
You’re god damn right.
Follow me on Twitter @commutesucks
Follow me on Instagram @yourcommutesucks