Umbrella
Today I learned a hard lesson.
I'm still having laundry issues (frankly, the inability to wash clothes conveniently at not an exorbitant rate), and I've figured that until I move into my apartment it's approximately the same cost to by new socks and undershirts as it is to wash the old ones.
This conclusion led me to the Pacific Centre mall, where I bought some socks, some white T-shirts, and a second pair of black pants. I was pleased to find out that the Sears here will shorten pants at no extra charge, in only a half hour or so, so I took my bag of new t-shirts and socks (and half of the camembert sandwich I'd bought earlier in the afternoon — must remember to take the cheese sandwich out of the sock bag), along with my umbrella, since today was another soggy day, and walked around the mall until my pants were ready.
I was feeling a little hungry, and in need of more vitamin-rich nourishment than the other half of a cheese sandwich, so I stopped at a Jugo Juice and bought a blueberry/blackberry smoothie.
I was suddenly faced with the issue of having three things to carry (count: Jugo Juice smoothie, bag of socks and cheese sandwich, and umbrella for the soggy day), and after juggling things around a bit, I reached an arrangement which sort of worked — the bag of clothes in my left hand, and the smoothie and umbrella in my right.
What I failed to consider, however, was that this was no ordinary umbrella. This was my cheap, four-dollar, made in China, bought in Chinatown umbrella I'd acquired as a replacement for the umbrella which unintentionally became a donation to my bank week before last, and this cheap umbrella has the tendency to release its catch at random times and pop open. Most times, since I've usually fastened the velcro tie around the umbrella part, this situation only results in a loud "thung!" sound as the shaft extends itself with no warning, but the umbrella itself stays folded.
That's sort of what happened this time, except in classic Newtonian fashion, the force of the rapidly expanding umbrella shaft up against my hand, which usually goes almost without notice, in this case conspired to launch my two-thirds full blackberry/blueberry Jugo Juice smoothie into the air in front of me, after which it followed a graceful parabolic arc through the air, and exploded with a startling "pop!" that left streams of dark blue stickiness spattering in all directions. (Hear it in your head about like this: "Thung! whooooooooooooshPOP! [sporadic patterings of stray drops]"
What seconds before was an anonymous crowd instantaneously transformed into a ring of about 20 people perplexed by a guy who had the nerve to toss a perfectly good Jugo Juice blueberry/blackberry smoothie onto a spotless marble floor in the middle of a bustling crowd of people.
I think umbrellas and I are destined to have issues for the rest of the year.
I'm still having laundry issues (frankly, the inability to wash clothes conveniently at not an exorbitant rate), and I've figured that until I move into my apartment it's approximately the same cost to by new socks and undershirts as it is to wash the old ones.
This conclusion led me to the Pacific Centre mall, where I bought some socks, some white T-shirts, and a second pair of black pants. I was pleased to find out that the Sears here will shorten pants at no extra charge, in only a half hour or so, so I took my bag of new t-shirts and socks (and half of the camembert sandwich I'd bought earlier in the afternoon — must remember to take the cheese sandwich out of the sock bag), along with my umbrella, since today was another soggy day, and walked around the mall until my pants were ready.
I was feeling a little hungry, and in need of more vitamin-rich nourishment than the other half of a cheese sandwich, so I stopped at a Jugo Juice and bought a blueberry/blackberry smoothie.
I was suddenly faced with the issue of having three things to carry (count: Jugo Juice smoothie, bag of socks and cheese sandwich, and umbrella for the soggy day), and after juggling things around a bit, I reached an arrangement which sort of worked — the bag of clothes in my left hand, and the smoothie and umbrella in my right.
What I failed to consider, however, was that this was no ordinary umbrella. This was my cheap, four-dollar, made in China, bought in Chinatown umbrella I'd acquired as a replacement for the umbrella which unintentionally became a donation to my bank week before last, and this cheap umbrella has the tendency to release its catch at random times and pop open. Most times, since I've usually fastened the velcro tie around the umbrella part, this situation only results in a loud "thung!" sound as the shaft extends itself with no warning, but the umbrella itself stays folded.
That's sort of what happened this time, except in classic Newtonian fashion, the force of the rapidly expanding umbrella shaft up against my hand, which usually goes almost without notice, in this case conspired to launch my two-thirds full blackberry/blueberry Jugo Juice smoothie into the air in front of me, after which it followed a graceful parabolic arc through the air, and exploded with a startling "pop!" that left streams of dark blue stickiness spattering in all directions. (Hear it in your head about like this: "Thung! whooooooooooooshPOP! [sporadic patterings of stray drops]"
What seconds before was an anonymous crowd instantaneously transformed into a ring of about 20 people perplexed by a guy who had the nerve to toss a perfectly good Jugo Juice blueberry/blackberry smoothie onto a spotless marble floor in the middle of a bustling crowd of people.
I think umbrellas and I are destined to have issues for the rest of the year.