I know I've already
posted once about storms, but it's been a big summer for them;
It was my last day of work and the Pharmacy. I was couch-surfing for another ten hours after the shift finished, and then I was heading to Europe. Yup, it was that post-exam, pre-holiday shift.
The day was a stinker; about forty degrees, and every one in the area was going a bit mad. About three o'clock a lady and her teenage daughter come in about a rash, and mention the sky is looking pretty black. Batten down the hatches, team. I moved my car under cover as the rain began to spit. We broke out the torches, more 'just to be safe' than anything.
Fifteen minutes later, night falls. A bit odd for the height of summer. Then the sky turns orange and yellow and opens. A good thunderstorm has drops that feel like blobs of oil. This stuff was most unrefined and heavy, both viscous and vicious. The tom-tom players on the roof sounded like they'd taken some sort of amphetamine overdose.
Rain lashed in through the front of the store and the gutters swiftly filled. I checked the rain radar; it was dark red and black over the surrounding six suburbs. The lights flickered in the lightening.
We closed the doors, and the water began to seep underneath. One of the shop assistants peered out the back door, to discover the carpark under a foot of water, which was now lapping over the back steps. The lights went out. The computer's backup whirred into action an began beeping like an ICU monitor. On went the torches.
We closed the Pharmacy; and put a label on the door "Emergency needs only; please knock". One bloke insisted on a box of Nurofen Plus. He opted to stay for a few minutes, but his impatience got the better of him and he dashed into the fallen sky.
There was a brief interlude in the rain; we walked outside to the streetside, where a Honda-CRV had been bogged and abandoned in the deluge. Bogans strolled through the knee deep water in bare feet, board shorts and Eureka Flag tattoos, inspecting one of three pile-ups at the intersection. The traffic lights began to flash orange as the towies latched up the first car.
The blackness returned, and the rain continued, heavier than before. The lightening and thunder was past us now; ravaging the suburbs to the north.
The ceiling had started to drip a few minutes into the storm. Then it leaked proper, like a tap being turned on over the vitamins section. All the umbrellas, usually open on display were turned
upside down to collect water. Every contained capable of holding water was utilised. Bailing ensued at regular intervals. The dispensary lights began to leak; luckily they were between shelves and the medicines were spared. Except the Controlled Drugs Safe, which was sodden. I phoned the boss with a damage report.
There was about two inches of water on the western side of the store, the ceiling was a mix between buckled and water-logged. It all felt a bit unsafe, so the two assistants and I hovered in the doorways. The back storage area was the worst hit; it was five inches deep and refusing to drain. The stock was destroyed. It was about seven o'clock. The store was sinking.
I tried to make some use of the time, and checked some websters in a seat under a doorway.
The boss phoned back, saying he's come down to suss out the damage an hour or so later. He brought a halogen lamp and the place looked like a crime-scene. We closed up the place, phoned the security company and triple checked the locks. I handed in my key. The lamp guides us to my car, where the boss thanks me for my last two years and diligence and farewell pleasantries are exchanged in the wet, warm night;
That's one helluva last shift you've had, mate.
