Thursday seemed to drag on forever. I was sitting in class, waiting for the last hour to tick away. Then after class, my platoon was going to go for a good long run. All this was between me and a long weekend in San Francisco with my friend Scott from back home.
The last hour finally came to a close and I headed to the barracks to change out of my uniform and into PT gear. The run was uneventful, but the sun was out, a rarity since I got stationed in Monterey. Finally, I was back at the barracks. I called Scott to let him know I'd meet him at the post gate so we could hit the road to San Francisco. He picked me up around six and we headed north to the City by the Bay.
I was born and raised in suburban New England. I had done some traveling, but for the most part, all I knew were bitter cold winters and hot, muggy summers. Fall was usually either: a) a reprieve from the heat of the summer before winter rolled in; or b) a bit of a chill before the real cold weather arrived. It was all I knew before arriving on the west coast, and, to be more specific, Monterey on California's Central Coast.
Monterey is very similar to the town I grew up in. Both are coastal towns, relying heavily on the fishing industry and tourism, and both are fairly affluent communities. There are, however, a few differences. Of all the differences between the east and west coasts, one in particular stood out: rain. Back home, rain could be a summer squall, a torrential downpour, a light drizzle... Rain was many things in New England. But in Monterey, I was surprised by what they called rain.
After a few days of misty fog, I went down into town. I overheard some people talking about "all this rain we've been getting recently," and I couldn't help but shake my head. To be fair, the region was going through a bit of a drought, but I would never mistake a heavy fog for being rain. Rain has actual drops of water that fall in a generally downward path, though I've been in rains during a severely strong wind where the raindrops traveled almost horizontally. This so-called "rain" I had experienced here in Monterey was merely mist that hung on the air and blew where the wind willed it.
That being said, it had been a beautiful sunny day when Scott picked me up. The sun was beginning the early stages of setting as we exchanged hugs just outside the post and then drove off to the northbound freeway. Somewhere along our trek on the 101 I started dropping hints that I was in a bit of a randy mood. Scott easily picked up on my barely hidden meanings and by the time the sun set, I knew I'd be getting some.
