Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Umbrellas of Pure Love

The other day I returned an umbrella I stole. I attached a completely honest note detailing the nature of my deception. I had decided to take the risky, and less traveled, road, just to be novel. After all, I knew absolutely I could get away with mistakenly commandeering such a piddly thing. It was sitting next to me all day, and had obviously been there from the night before. I reasoned that I had waited long enough for someone to claim it. How many umbrella have I lost in exactly the same manner? As I walked home with it, I thought about how umbrellas are a public commodity that float from person to person. I thought, "Poor suckers who actually spend money on a umbrella." Then the guy came in two days later, looking for his umbrella. "I got it for re-subscribing to The New York Times." and "I can see how someone would take it. It being so handsome." Of course, I lied straight up to him, "Uh . . . No I haven't seen any umbrellas. What color?" This is the point where I had three options -
1) Keep the umbrella. Screw him and his likeable happiness.
2) Return the umbrella to the scene of the crime, but hidden, so I could claim to have not seen it before.
3) Return the umbrella to him and apologize.

I went with option three. Then Karma struck. The only other umbrella that Marigold and I own I accidentally left at a college building. It wasn't there when I went back for it.

3 Comments:

I have a beautiful orange umbrella that I bought. The best umbrella I've ever seen, bar none, I bought for my brother as a christmas present in 2001. I found it in October 2001. It has the new york skyline on it including the twin towers. They had been produced an put in stores in Sept 2001. They were promptly sold out by october. He is embarrassed to use it.

10/20/2004 11:46:00 AM  

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What the hell, dude? Are too busy to post? Is your "art" keeping you away from computers? I am very disappointed in you and so is god.

11/02/2004 03:45:00 PM  

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Mandypants, didn't you see his art project ... go here for a link: http://nicehat.com/blog/index.php?p=165

He was very, very, very busy. The last evening we spent with them all he could do was work on his project ... chalking, smudging, blowing, hair spraying on it, blowing chalk into the fire, telling us happily that we were going to die because his chalk dust was toxic.

Either that or the umbrella karma got him. Miss you, Stevie Weevie.

11/02/2004 08:11:00 PM  

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