Raining in Bellevue

It's been chucking it down all day, but sadly unlike the well-tempered rain of Singapore, Bellevue's precipitation doesn't cease at a sensible time in the late afternoon.

No, it just rains and rains, and rains some more. And the wind it doth blow, and we shall have snow, but not yet. Not until I leave for Asia, at which point the fluffy white stuff may descend on Washington, but not before.
This is a mercy, though, for I didn't finish work until ten this evening, and if I'd had to walk back to the hotel through drifts of deep and crisp and even snow I'd quite possibly peg out somewhere between office and warm, comforting bed. However, it is still raining and I don't really want to ruin a nice pair of dress shoes by getting them soaking wet.

These are the same dress shoes I got soaking wet in July, but I was getting married on a boat, not lugging a laptop down a dark suburban street, grumbling to myself. One occasion justifies it, the other doesn't.

So I called the hotel and asked them to send a car over for me, which is a wonderful, free service, but unfortunately they told me to wait in the parking garage for my ride, and the parking garage is locked up for the night, which means I stand just outside, sheltering from the rain and shivering from the cold, arousing the suspicion of security guards and wishing I'd brought galoshes and an umbrella to work. Next time, there's always next time.

Assuming the car does arrive and does drive me home, of course. This could be a rather exciting night otherwise.
For values of exciting that look a lot like 'damp', that is.