One cloudy night I actually had a fourth date—;the number date where linking arms is not forward but silently appreciated. Once we emerged from the subway however the clouds had turned to precipitation (the water cycle!) and my date and I were forced to open our umbrellas. Neither of us carried golf umbrellas so we settled under our respective five dollar umbrellas, the kind made of foil and muslin that turn inside out when you round a corner too quickly.
Despite the soggy weather my date and I were eager to maintain the entitled fourth date hand holding. We walked side by side and arms were extended to grab hands. While this normally is sentimental and sweet, it was quickly compromised with our umbrellas constantly butting against one another. Rain trickled between our two umbrellas and I could barely hold a conversation as I avoided jabbing my date in the eye with the umbrella frame. Sweaty palms are one thing; sopping wet sleeves and me juggling my purse and umbrella are another.
From this I had one conclusion: umbrellas on average lower a person’s level of functionality by 30%. People become concerned with only one consuming thought, “HOW IN GOD’S NAME CAN I STAY DRY!?” Especially in New York, people’s irrationality is linked directly to the size of their umbrella. I can think of at least five instances when I have been blind sided by a giant golf umbrella without the carrier every noticing, let alone apologizing.
Now, how do I propose remedying the situation? Ponchos? No, never. Rain boots? They help. The small clear dome umbrellas? Yes. Perf.
If I had invested the $20 on the clear umbrella I’d been eyeing at Beacon’s Closet for the past three months, my date and I would have been able to at least adorably stare at one another. I also would be able to see more than my shins as I bolt through the rain and therefore dodge other people’s umbrellas. Ugh, it’s time to man up and splurge on this EXTREMELY necessary expense.