One of the things you can never quite account for when you travel is the weather at your destination. I'd been planning on going on this trip for a few months, so I had no way of predicting that it would rain. Check that; I couldn't have predicted that it would rain a whole freaking lot during my trip. Put it this way: one of the local news stations was throwing around the word "historic levels" to describe the rains and the subsequent flooding.
Now, I had checked the weather report before I left (I try to be responsible now and again), so I knew that I was in store for some rain. However, I like to travel light. I have never once taken an umbrella with me, so I figured that this was no time to start. Instead, I packed a light jacket that does a pretty good job of being impermeable and a baseball cap. Between those two items, I figured that I could survive a few drops of water.
For the most part, this plan worked out well. I saw a few summer storms, the kind that disappear after twenty minutes or so, but I stayed dry. Sadly, my luck would not hold.
By about the second day in Philadelphia, we were running into some serious water. The angels weren't just crying, they were flat out bawling their eyes out for hours on end. So, my friend and I both caved and bought a couple of cheap umbrellas at a local Hallmark. They were meant to be a temporary reprieve, and they handled that job just fine.
Somehow, though, my umbrella seemed to hold up a little better than my friend's. They were the exact same model, so maybe the manufacturing standards were a little lax. Maybe the black umbrellas were inherently better than the blue ones, or maybe I dealt with less wind resistance because I was shorter than my friend. I don't know why, but my umbrella held up better than my friend's. Not that I wished ill on him or anything, but I was glad that my umbrella was being the more awesome of the two.
Sadly, this was merely the fates playing with me. The next day, we stopped to have dinner at this place that preferred that people leave their umbrellas by the door. It made sense; you didn't want to get the floors wet if there going to be people walking around all over the place. It was somewhat tight quarters inside, as well. All in all, it seemed reasonable, so I neatly stood up my umbrella next to the pile .My friend, however, chose to keep his with him. He didn't want to risk someone walking off with his umbrella.
Now, remember, these were 5 dollar umbrellas. I figured no one would be silly enough to try to take them, so I took my chances. When we went to leave, though, I didn't see my umbrella. There were quite a few black umbrellas, but none of the ones on the ground looked like the one I had purchased. Confused, I spent several minutes combing through the pile of umbrellas. When I didn't spot it, I stood up and noticed one hanging from a hook that looked familiar. That definitely wasn't where I had left it, but I didn't see my umbrella anywhere else. I reasoned that someone else must have moved it.
After a few minutes of being outdoors, though, I quickly realized that this was not my trusty umbrella. This thing refused to stay upright. Remember how my umbrella was apparently the better of the two cheap ones we had purchased? No longer.I must've fought with the metal under wire on this umbrella every five minutes for a solid half hour or so. Ignoring the smug "told you so" look on my friend's face, I figured I'd just deal with it.
Unfortunately, this umbrella decided that it just wasn't worth the hassle. Rather than merely flipping inside out, the long metal "trunk" snapped in two. Yes, that's right. The most solid piece of metal on the entire umbrella decided to take its leave from this cruel, cruel world. I've seen damage to umbrellas before, but this was a first. That part of the umbrella has the fewest moving parts and it holds the fewest joints. It's meant to be the base, quite literally, so you expect it to hold itself together. Apparently, though, the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
It was at this point that I discovered two things: 1. five dollars is apparently not the bottom of the barrel when it comes to umbrellas, and 2. an umbrella actually fits quite nicely in a public trash can. Luckily, I had worn the jacket and cap that day, so I zipped up the jacket and donned the cap. They weren't ideal protection, but they sufficed.
We only saw heavy rain again on one other day on the trip, so I managed to get by. Still, every time the rain would start coming down, I'd think of the joker who walked off with my umbrella. Me being me, I chuckled. I just hoped he took good care of The Little Umbrella That Could.
Now, I had checked the weather report before I left (I try to be responsible now and again), so I knew that I was in store for some rain. However, I like to travel light. I have never once taken an umbrella with me, so I figured that this was no time to start. Instead, I packed a light jacket that does a pretty good job of being impermeable and a baseball cap. Between those two items, I figured that I could survive a few drops of water.
For the most part, this plan worked out well. I saw a few summer storms, the kind that disappear after twenty minutes or so, but I stayed dry. Sadly, my luck would not hold.
By about the second day in Philadelphia, we were running into some serious water. The angels weren't just crying, they were flat out bawling their eyes out for hours on end. So, my friend and I both caved and bought a couple of cheap umbrellas at a local Hallmark. They were meant to be a temporary reprieve, and they handled that job just fine.
Somehow, though, my umbrella seemed to hold up a little better than my friend's. They were the exact same model, so maybe the manufacturing standards were a little lax. Maybe the black umbrellas were inherently better than the blue ones, or maybe I dealt with less wind resistance because I was shorter than my friend. I don't know why, but my umbrella held up better than my friend's. Not that I wished ill on him or anything, but I was glad that my umbrella was being the more awesome of the two.
Sadly, this was merely the fates playing with me. The next day, we stopped to have dinner at this place that preferred that people leave their umbrellas by the door. It made sense; you didn't want to get the floors wet if there going to be people walking around all over the place. It was somewhat tight quarters inside, as well. All in all, it seemed reasonable, so I neatly stood up my umbrella next to the pile .My friend, however, chose to keep his with him. He didn't want to risk someone walking off with his umbrella.
Now, remember, these were 5 dollar umbrellas. I figured no one would be silly enough to try to take them, so I took my chances. When we went to leave, though, I didn't see my umbrella. There were quite a few black umbrellas, but none of the ones on the ground looked like the one I had purchased. Confused, I spent several minutes combing through the pile of umbrellas. When I didn't spot it, I stood up and noticed one hanging from a hook that looked familiar. That definitely wasn't where I had left it, but I didn't see my umbrella anywhere else. I reasoned that someone else must have moved it.
After a few minutes of being outdoors, though, I quickly realized that this was not my trusty umbrella. This thing refused to stay upright. Remember how my umbrella was apparently the better of the two cheap ones we had purchased? No longer.I must've fought with the metal under wire on this umbrella every five minutes for a solid half hour or so. Ignoring the smug "told you so" look on my friend's face, I figured I'd just deal with it.
Unfortunately, this umbrella decided that it just wasn't worth the hassle. Rather than merely flipping inside out, the long metal "trunk" snapped in two. Yes, that's right. The most solid piece of metal on the entire umbrella decided to take its leave from this cruel, cruel world. I've seen damage to umbrellas before, but this was a first. That part of the umbrella has the fewest moving parts and it holds the fewest joints. It's meant to be the base, quite literally, so you expect it to hold itself together. Apparently, though, the universe has a wicked sense of humor.
It was at this point that I discovered two things: 1. five dollars is apparently not the bottom of the barrel when it comes to umbrellas, and 2. an umbrella actually fits quite nicely in a public trash can. Luckily, I had worn the jacket and cap that day, so I zipped up the jacket and donned the cap. They weren't ideal protection, but they sufficed.
We only saw heavy rain again on one other day on the trip, so I managed to get by. Still, every time the rain would start coming down, I'd think of the joker who walked off with my umbrella. Me being me, I chuckled. I just hoped he took good care of The Little Umbrella That Could.
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