Only in southern California (San Diego to be exact) will one overhear a conversation like this:
“Hey dude, did you have nice weekend?” -Male hairdresser asked male client.
Male Client- “Nah, doode. It rained. I mean, I know we’re like in a drought and need that shit, but it totally ruined my surfing. I just hate it when it rains.”
Really, people? Can one not forgo surfing for a weekend just so our shriveled up state can try to recover from four years of dire thirst?
This is one (of the many reasons) I get annoyed with San Diegans. I will come clean and say it’s not ALL of the San Diego population, but a huge grip of them complain incessantly whenever we get a little of Mother Nature’s spit. Their poor souls drop into a dark depression during the few hours the rain falls. They complain about it as if its acid hitting their flesh and melting the skin off their bones. They act like their bodies are going to drop to the ground and begin convulsing from going into an immediate vitamin D deficiency. They drive like crazier maniacs than when the roads are bone dry.
If you ever want to see what a town would look like if a crazed zombie outbreak were to ever happen, visit San Diego when it’s raining… which is practically never.