Two Dozen Umbrellas

A couple of months ago, I helped a lady get to her car in a supermarket parking lot during a deluge. Those little kindnesses are nearly gone from out fast-paced world, and I felt a little awkward, truth be told. I wondered if she thought I might mug her.

In retrospect, I ought to have just given her my umbrella. I felt bad about that later. It was an old umbrella - long past due to be lost or misplaced. I'm terrible with them.

So I got this harebrained idea. My husband, knowing that "nuts" was a foregone conclusion, didn't even bother rolling his eyes. But I could tell he was thinking, "I bet this is going to cost me…"

I went out the next day and bought two dozen umbrellas in assorted neon colors. No, really. You can get them pretty cheap, if you know where to look. And believe me, I looked. Because writers don't make all that much, and I wanted to be NICE, not POOR.

I figured I'd just keep them in my car (who'd notice them under all the happy meal shrapnel?) and give them out occasionally to drowned rats and other stranded souls. It's not as noble as feeding the hungry masses, but I figured it was a quick easy way to make somebody's day.

Now, I always thought that the absolute best senior project for a psychology major was to try monkeying with elevator etiquette, but I have to say that handing out (free) umbrellas can be every ounce as entertaining.

My first victim was an elderly gentleman standing on the curb at one of those plaza hardware stores. It was pouring buckets. I was just pulling out, and it was easy as pie to drive up, roll down the window, and offer my token of kindness. He seemed like a "teal" sort of guy. Definitely not fuchsia. Right. Teal. I smiled, and reached out as far as my seat belt would allow. He backed up a corresponding distance.

"It's an UMBRELLA." I waggled it. "For you. You look like you could use one!"

Whereupon he didn't exactly RUN, but the posture clearly bespoke flight.

See, I hadn't even considered the lunatic angle (though I'm quite sure that my husband did.) You probably have to live in Mayberry to get away with this sort of thing. Well, never mind. There was a lady up by the bagel store holding a newspaper over her head. Fuchsia!

"Hi! You look like you could use an umbrella. Take mine." I stretched.

"No, thanks" she avoided eye contact.

"Really, I'm quite sane! Look! It's PINK!"

No luck. Maybe I should try the public library. Or the skating rink.

And with that, it turned into a challenge. I carried extra umbrellas in my purse, in my car, and sometimes stuck through my belt like a light saber. You can't be too prepared. Of course, it helps if it's rainy, but you never know.

"Would you like my umbrella? It's pouring. No, really. See, I've got an extra. Actually six extras, in a veritable rainbow of neon colors! Hey, where are you going?"

Anyhow, now I've got this huge pile of umbrellas, and a citation for "Loitering with malicious intent to give out free rain gear." I never knew they had a law about that sort of thing.

So far I've only managed to give out two. But she was very large.

Still, I'm determined to make my mark. Spread a little bit of happiness. Revive some kindness in the world. I can hardly wait for hurricane season!