Around 9:00pm on 8 July 2013, I texted my father asking him if he needed a ride home. His response was, “Yes, could you pick me up at Finch?” What a nut.
After work he went out for dinner with a vendor, and little did he know that the TTC subway had flooded. I looked at my mom as he called me back in a delusional state, asking if the line up he saw was for the shuttle buses, and why it was so long.
I knew we would have to venture downtown and rescue him from the flood. Living at Yonge and Steeles it isn’t hard to drive to Steeles and head south on Willowdale (a street that runs parallel to Yonge street). However, all the street lights were out. Little did I know that this rescue mission would take my mother and I about 3 hours. A drive that normally takes about 20 minutes from my house – to get to Yonge and St. Clair – was delayed due to bumper to bumper traffic.
I’m thankful that our basement didn’t flood this time, unlike during a past thunder-storm a few years ago, and that our power came back on around 9pm. I am also happy that I wasn’t stuck downtown without transportation home. Driving through the chaos became hilarious to my mother and I, but not so much to my dad. He was exhausted and pissed that we were taking so long. During his irritated state and impatience he couldn’t believe that traffic lights were out and that we were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic.
I doubt my mom and I will ever attempt another rescue mission because though we felt bad for him initially, his ungrateful attitude had us shocked and irritated. Of course I fell asleep in the car on the way home, as it was approaching midnight, and all we could see were red and white lights.