My Umbrella

Today is not the day to realize that all of my umbrellas are in the desk drawer at work. The rain is coming down hard, the really is no choice; I don the most waterproof jacket I own and pray.

Shaindle S. comes out of her apartment while I'm waiting for the elevator. "Don't forget your umbrella!" she says. I tell her my plight and she apologizes for not having an extra one to loan me. She also tells me how her children try to use the rain (unsuccessfully) as an excuse for skipping school.

I go to drop some clothes at the cleaners and by the time I get there I am drenched. Pretty soon it will seep to my undies, so I stop at BP for an umbrella. Tova P. is at the Dunkin' Donuts counter inside but she doesn't see me. Not spotting any umbrellas, I ask the clerk behind the counter if they have any. He pulls one out from underneath a nearby shelf and rings it up. $4.98.

I walk the rest of the way to the train station and run into Evan R. in the tunnel. We wave and I head through the turnstiles and down to the platform. Nechama W. is sitting on one of the benches and says hello. I haven't seen her in a while and it takes a moment to recognize her with a hat on.

On the train, I grab one of the last seats, in a drab, dark corner of the car. Everything is fine till 145th, where the conductor announces that the train ahead has deployed it's emergency brakes and is blocking the track. The one day I might have made it to work before 9:00 and I am plagued with delays. I guess that's karma.