Never Trust a Convenience Store Umbrella
I have few steadfast beliefs but I'll share one with you: Convenience store umbrellas are a farce. You know the ones I'm talking about. It's raining, and you find yourself without an umbrella, so you dash into CVS, Tedeschis, 7-Eleven, and there they are--a bunch of brightly colored umbrellas perched innocently by the door, handles out, ready to be taken. They're always in the price range of $5.99-11.99, but pay no mind to the price--no matter which one you buy, it won't work.
Time and time again, I've purchased one of these umbrellas during a rainstorm. I take the thing out of its plastic case that it will never fit into again, and I walk outside, open it up and prepare for salvation. Approximately ten seconds later, with the first phoosh of air, the thing is flipped inside out, one of the Edward Scissorhands metal bits is poking through the fabric and my self is soaked.
I don't know if, for the last decade, we've gotten the wrong shipment or what. These convenience store umbrellas seem fit only for a pattering of rain on a completely calm day, where not even one leaf is dancing in the wind. A rainy day in New England is completely uncivilized. It rains sideways. In fact, sometimes it feels like the raindrops are boomeranging back up from the ground. On a rainy day here in New England, there is wind and it is strong. When it's raining, people walking down the street holding an umbrella look like a mess of Harry Potters fighting with fiesty wands. When you walk by a public trash barrel on a rainy day, it's stuffed with broken umbrellas, the air of rage from its previous owner still floating around it.
I had an umbrella that worked once, and for one rainy season in Boston, it was glorious. I bought it for $15 from H&M and it was worth every penny. It was transparent, and the shape was more of a U so it was not given to being flipped inside out. Then I left it in a cab one day when I was apartment hunting. I didn't even go with the apartment--it was horribly sketchy. I still long for that umbrella. I realize it would take ten minutes of Googling to find myself an umbrella just like it but it's more fun complaining about this one than finding a solution.
For now, I'm just going to walk down the street, let the rain fall on me and fancy myself a thirsty flower.