THE RAINY DAY SHOW COMMENT SECTION
@SkysTheLimit:glad Alice turned away from the states. I’m not ready for a hurricane!
@TheBlondeBombshellGrl:Quincy, can u talk abt the rain in the Midwest? Haven’t seen the sun in dayz out here in Ohio.
@SharkNados4life:Quincy what’s the deal with this system coming off Africa? Should I cancel my Caribbean cruise next week?
@TheRainyDayShow:Hi,@SharkNados4life!Way, way too early to tell anything about a wave that’s 2+ weeks away. History shows that storms like the one you’re seeing like to curve N/NE and stay out at sea. That’s if they’re even able to form. I’ll touch on this tomorrow on the show and share some data! It’s safe to say you can enjoy your cruise .
@PBJ43813:I STG all this girl does is hype shit up. Why even talk about a storm that’s hundreds of miles away and NO THREAT to the east coast?
@PocketFullOfSunshine89:@PBJ43813she’s not hyping anything up. Have you heard of Bermuda? People live there too. It’s not like she can say “sorry, you’re shit out of luck! Figure it out!”
@PBJ43813:@PocketFullOfSunshine89Everyone knows all these storms are being engineered by the government to hit certain communities. Cloud seeding. Look it up.
@PocketFullOfSunshine89:@PBJ43813maybe put the phone down and walk outside. Hey. Maybe the rain you think the government is creating can cool you off along the way.
Eight forty-five in the morning, and the temperature is already unforgiving.
The heat index pushed into the triple digits this week, and there’s no relief in sight.
The air is thick. The humidity is thicker, and I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.
Standing under the scorching sun and wrestling with my tripod could be filed underdumb shit drunk frat bros do at a tailgate, yet I’m here. Prepared to wait and see if I can capture anything exciting on camera after Doppler radar indicated the potential for tornadic activity in the storms working their way across the state.
The ice-cold water bottle sitting in the cooler in my front seat is going to be a well-earned reward.
I give my setup a long look, pausing to tilt my phone half a degree to the left for a wider shot of the surrounding landscape. After seven years of creating videos I share on the internet, I know the tall grass and open space behind me is the perfect backdrop. Viewers love to go into the action. It makes it feel like they’re here with me, owners of a captivating story to share.
I’ve built my brand on looking at data and historical statistics, but there’s something special about chasing a storm. About putting yourself out in the elements, not knowing what’s going to happen next. I don’t do it nearly enough, sticking to my home office over the outdoors most days, but I’m changing my tune this summer.
I need to. This is a big moment in my career, and I don’t want tomiss out on things because I’m staring at my computer rather than what’s happening right in front of me.
A wall cloud appears in the distance and I grin, excitement wisping through me. The sight of nature working its magic always makes my heart rate spike, and I’m practically bouncing up and down when I glance at the radar one more time.
Ready to start my live stream, I tap a few buttons on my phone, waiting for the connection to catch up in an area with shitty service and no Wi-Fi.
“Good morning, everyone.” I wave and with a smile, tuck away the loose pieces of hair escaping from my ponytail. “Thanks for tuning in, chasers. If you’re new here, I’m Quincy, and I’m happy you’re joining me. The tropics are currently quiet after Alice fizzled out in the Atlantic last week. Tropical Storm Brandon is no threat to land, so I thought we’d take a field trip.” I gesture over my shoulder, a gust of wind rippling in the air. “Welcome to my favorite office.”
Three thousand people are already watching, the number climbing as I keep rolling.
“A line of thunderstorms is coming in from the west, and these storms occasionally produce tornadoes. With the possibility of rotation in the atmosphere, it was a no-brainer to come out here and see what we could find.” I point to the clouds, the area where the sky is turning angry. My blood hums. “Supercells are different from squall lines, as they are more discrete. They also require more wind shear to form than regular thunderstorms. If we’re lucky, we might have a developing supercell here, which means …” I pause for dramatic effect with a grin. “Tornadoes.”
I’m talking too fast. Being too enthusiastic by using my hands and forgetting to look at the camera. It always happens when I ramble about the things I’m most excited about, and I pause for a breath.
“Over my right shoulder, you’ll notice how dark the sky is at the leading edge of the thunderstorm. On the left side, you can make out what could be a condensation funnel thanks to rotating air. If there is a downward rush of air on the backside of the storm—a phenomenon we like to call rear flank downdraft—the funnel cloud will elongate, touch the ground, and become—”
Loud, blaring music cuts me off. The chorus of an AC/DC song pulses in my temple before the tune abruptly ends. A car door opens, then slams shut. I whip my head around at the noise.
I expect to find a group of teenagers making their way out here to goof off. I’m off the beaten path, in the perfect spot to get into some trouble without an adult finding out, but I don’t see any kids ditching school.
The only other person in a ten-mile radius is Sebastian, and he’s walking toward me.
His left hand is shoved in his shorts pocket. His shirt shows off his necklace glimmering in the fading sunlight, the hint of chest hair below the collar. The wide grin he’s wearing makes me pinch the bridge of my nose, already exhausted.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say. “Sorry, folks. We have a party crasher.”
“Monroe.” There’s a small square object attached to his chest. A tripod in his right hand and a microphone looped around his wrist. “Are you chasing this cell too?”
