like they're too good for water.

i remember right before i left austin, i was engaged in Deep Conversation mode with no hope of relief from Bitter Ornery gear or Fuck Off You're Not Worth It mentality, and a good friend ... perhaps my very best friend told me something that i found strange at the time ... but looking back on it, i understand.

"your tolerance for pain is higher than usual, and so you're not caring that people are completely fucking around with you."

and so the next day, i took the hours for my very own.

it was pouring fucking rain, coming down in pucks and keys and dominoes. i sat at our normal corner table outside, shielded from any weather. i sat there and relinquished my duty to any of them with words scrawled on a piece of paper, too thin to battle the rain, too thick to hold the ink.

and they were stupid words. they were words like 'eager' and 'undisturbed' and 'fuck you' ... you know, the simple writer's words.

but when i was done tearing down the wallpaper in my head, and i got a look at the new room in front of me. i, literally, lifted my head and saw the rain beating the ever-living-shit out of the trees and the flowers. merciless and still fuckin beautiful, and i wanted to be like that.

instead, all i could muster was a wonder that i was the only person sitting out near the rain, the relentless thug rain.

an hour later, i looked up, and i saw a guy ... the type of guy you'll never see again even though you both know that you both come here all the time. we locked eyes and smiled at each other. it was an exchange of weak and passive smiles. i shrugged and returned to my bitter silly words.

we were the two in the rain.

i went in to get a refill on my iced tea. i nodded to him and gestured at my journal ... would he keep it safe? and he nodded back, implying that he would indeed make sure that my life's savings of words did not indeed tumble off the table, into the puddle, and blow around sticking to the bike racks as impatient pulp. i smiled back.

i returned to my seat and closed the journal. i sat back and lit a cigarette, watching the fist fight of rain against the brutally matched concrete.

there was a small explosion, but it was big enough to make me jump even though it was half a block away. a sharp light in the corner of my eye ... i stood up and wandered over to where the guy was standing.

when we spoke, it ruined everything.

it was just a transformer that blew, ending itself in the storm.

we sniffed at the air, blinking away the burnt rubber sort of smell.

i smiled.

he smiled.

and i nodded, thinking in my head, 'yeah, fuck you too.'

because that's where i was last summer.