Why I will miss New York, reason #83:
Walking home through the East Village. Crossing the street against the light, a little old lady walks slowly, bent over her cane. A young guy on a bike comes screaming around the corner, just missing the little old lady and just making the light: Waaaaaaaaatcccccccchhhhhhhhh ooooooouuuuuuuuttttttt!!!!!!!
A few minutes later, the sky goes yellow-green and opens up, raindrops the size of strawberries, the streets running with two inches of water after only ten minutes of rain. I am soaked through, even with an umbrella. So wet that when I get home and am checking my mailbox, one of my neighbors comes downstairs, sees the state I'm in: Jesus!
It's the kind of rain that, once you realize you could wring out your clothes but aren't likely to get any wetter, is pretty fun to play in, the kind that makes waiting it out in doorways seem romantic, wading through the puddles seem courageous, racing through the park hilarious.