8:30 a.m. JB wakes up craving pizza.
12:45 p.m. JB gets pizza for lunch.
5:50 p.m. D and JB go see “Horton Hears a Who” at Atlantic Station. Horton hears a B- from JB.
7:20 D and JB have dinner at California Pizza Kitchen near the movie theater.
8:30 D, a reporter for an unnamed giant news organization, leaves for work. She’s on the weekend overnight shift, and has to go in early because a coworker injured himself a couple weeks ago. The 9 – 8 shift isn’t fun for anybody.
9:00 JB has decided to watch another movie. It’s “Doomsday,” natch.
9:30 The newsroom is a big open space with desks in it; one wall of the room made up of windows that look out over the city. It’s a beautiful view, most days. JB and D watched the new year come in from this vantage point. But at this moment, the windows are bending in and out several inches at the force of the wind, flapping convexconcaveconvex so fast they seem turned to liquid and surely something’s gotta give and, on other floors, things do. A tornado warning has just been issued.
9:45 D and her coworkers have retired to a sound-recording booth (they do multimedia, you know) to wait out the storm. Outside, all hell is breaking loose. JB rides it out obliviously in the movie theater.
10:00 The storm over, D grabs her ReporterGear (notepad, pencil, unnamed giant news organization-branded rainjacket) and hightails it down to the street to get the story.
10:05-10:45 In between grabbing quotes about the tornado, D calls JB’s cell phone every 5 minutes. She’s quite worried, and meanwhile JB munches popcorn and muses about Rhona Mitra’s similarity to Sandra Bullock and Bridget Moynihan, too oblivious to know he should be worried.
10:46 JB, regurgitated from the theater after being half-digested by the gratuitously disgusting (and not in a good way) F+ travesty that is “Doomsday,” notices lots of calls from D on his phone, calls her back without delay. “There was a tornado. I’m busy. More storms coming. DO NOT GO ANYWHERE.”
11:00 JB tells D to “go get ’em Tiger,” and promptly heads back into the theater to watch the 11:30 showing of “10,000 BC,” which stands for “10,000 Bags of Crap.” In the meantime, JB’s sister C has stopped by his house and reported that “house is fine, where the f are u”. JB frets, but everybody seems ok. Having missed all of the excitement, he doesn’t even know he should be worried. The picture D attempts to send via cell phone is too large to download. O sweet ignorance! Troubled times thy kiss converts to naught but puzzlement at worry o’erpass’d!
2:00 a.m. JB gets home, and it’s pitch black. He walks the dog and inspects the area in between scrounging for candles and flashlights.
2:30 a.m. JB falls asleep
9:30 a.m. D gets home, barely makes it up stairs before falling asleep
12:30 Still no power, JB gets up and putters around; walks the dog, gives him some food and water, grabs a ball of fluffy fur with claws and puts antibiotic goop on poor little CeCe’s eyeball (she has a cold), etc. JB inspects the area, finding only minor damage to premises– awning disconnected on side of house is reattached by passing handyman pal. Roof mostly blown off decrepit shack out back, will need replacing shortly. No other damage to casa JB&D, nor the domiciles to either side.
12:45 At the end of the street, however, it’s another story as three giant trees have blown over. One on top of an empty house on the corner (not gonna get $650k for it NOW are you, jerkwads), one JUST missing a house where someone recently moved in– their Volvo was severely damaged. Poor little Volvo. JB commiserates with the spirit of the automobile.
12:50 Another vacant house, this one across the street from the ruined Volvo, has a large tree draped across its front, one large branch caressing the front porch, little leafy fingers digging into the roof, heavier branches beginning to pull the porch clean off the house in a DEATH EMBRACE. Maybe this will get the absentee realty company to bring the craptastic bungalow up to code. Ridiculous.
1:00 Trees all over the neighborhood– BIG trees –are down, their drought-strained roots sheared off almost at ground level. Hundreds of years old, and weighing multiple TONS, these old trees met their match in the cold breath of mother Wind.
2:30 D’s still zonked. JB wanders down to the Village to see what’s up. Most of the stores are closed, and there is wind damage to some roofing and siding, and some windows are smashed. A vacant lot with a stand of several giant trees is several giant trees short of a stand this afternoon. People are wandering around.
2:35 One corner bar is open without power; their clever management procured a large barbecue rig and is cooking up a storm. God bless America.
2:40 JB appreciates the barbecue ingenuity, but goes to get pizza as usual anyway. The pizza joint has power, as does most of that block. JB sends D a text message with his location.
3:00 D joins JB at the pizza joint, and they canoodle.
3:15 It starts to rain. JB is concerned because his basement will flood if his sump pump doesn’t run, and his sump pump needs electricity to run. JB is aggravated, though he and D share a pretty hearty laugh at the travails of keeping that dratted basement dry.
3:20 It starts to hail. Pea-sized. Oh crap.
3:25 The hail is now not-quite golf-ball sized. Is there gumball-sized hail? Is that an official nomenclature for hail? Should be.
3:35 Not to worry, though, it was just a squall. The hail and rain storm has mostly passed, so JB and D scoot home, past the trees, past the broken windows, and into their darkened home.
4:00 JB and D go to Lowes to see if they can find a small generator to power the sump pump. Alas, the cheapest generator at Lowes is $399. WTF, Lowes?
9:00 After getting some comfort food in the form of two small mounds of Coldstone Creamery ice cream, our heroes return home to their darkened abode where D takes a nap and JB stays with her, reading. Power is still out. People have been calling to check on the couple all day. Voicemail and text messages fairly raining down on them, like Love Hail. Softball-sized.
10:45 D goes to work for her second (and thankfully final) overnight shift of the weekend. Despite the lack of tornado action, the night and morning are really busy as coverage continues of the aftermath.
11:15 The power comes back on. The basement, remarkably, has remained dry this whole time.
2:00 a.m. JB gives up on making the Internet work.
8:30 D comes home, crawls into bed. Mmmm.
12:30 JB wakes up craving pizza.