(A post from the archives)
Day 28 (of 30)
You can divide the world into two groups: those that carry an umbrella and those who do not. For me, a waterproof jacket and a good hat are enough. I do not appreciate the looks from on high I get from the umbrella people.
I wrote this in a little notebook back when I studied at Louisville; I walked in the rain more than a few times on campus:
I slap on my blue Auburn hat, find an appropriate jacket, and I'm off. I do not take an umbrella.
I pass other miserable souls with the rain dripping from the bridge of their nose or brim of a hat. Like all the down-trodden souls of history, there is an understanding between us, whether we make eye contact or raise our fists together in defiance. Given enough time or coordination, we would take those fucking umbrellas and revolt.
We skulk and scurry while you stroll and get in the way.
It's a bit melodramatic, but I think you get the gist that I really hate being out in the rain. The cold, driving rain we've had here lately is from some special circle of hell and just reminds me how much I don't like umbrellas. Maybe more specifically, I don't like people who carry umbrellas.
That might sound a bit strong, and it is. I can't count how many times I have been poked in the face or shoulder by those little sharp metal tines that jut out from an umbrella. I guess I'm just at the right height.
When I'm in the rain, I move fast. For some people, this comes as a surprise. But, I like to get out of the rain as soon as possible. Others like to just stroll about and soak it in. Not me. So, when someone with a brightly colored umbrella is just taking up the entire sidewalk, I get a little frustrated.
I'm not here to start a campaign to destroy all the umbrella people. I think I'm more asking for empathy for those of us who are non-umbrellas, not pity. Just move aside and let us walk on. We are the underdogs Ben talked about.