Today the rain came down so hard it looked as if Noah had filed a last-minute comeback tour and picked my neighborhood for the opening act.
Still, hunger is a powerful motivator, and since even a determined man cannot live on memories and peanut butter fumes alone, I grabbed my trusty $10.56 umbrella—a magnificent engineering achievement made mostly of optimism and thin metal—and headed to the supermarket.
On the way, I saw a woman about my age battling the storm like a character in an old movie. She was dressed nicely, but the weather had turned her hair into something between a sea rescue and a science experiment. She was leaning into the wind, trying to move forward while the rain slapped her from three directions at once. She had that look on her face people get when they realize nature has taken things personally.
So I walked over, handed her my umbrella, smiled, and said something like, “You look like you need this more than I do.”
She looked at me as if I had just handed her the last life raft off the Titanic.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I told her yes, because at my age getting soaked is mostly a cosmetic issue. Besides, I was already halfway to looking like a damp schnauzer.
She laughed, thanked me, and took the umbrella with the kind of smile that makes you think maybe the world is still holding together better than the news suggests. I walked on to the store a little wetter than I would have been, but also a good deal happier.
I’m only telling you this because you’re the kind of people who would do the same thing. And I like being reminded that I know people like that.
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