Umbrellas are magical contraptions: hand any ordinary person an umbrella on a miserably rainy day, and not only do they remain satisfyingly dry on a wet street, they also turn into INCONSIDERATE ASSHOLES.

Yesterday was one of those miserably rainy days, and, after putting a massive run in my only remaining pair of nylons, I had to run out the door umbrella-less and cursing my self-righteous cleaning spree (the effects of which have now been completely obliterated) in which I threw out my broken purple umbrella, deciding it was busted beyond use. My mind swam with ingenious methods of mending the faithful but discarded umbrella while i dashed to the streetcar stop, barelegged in the middle of November.

When I got off the streetcar I had to take a detour of my usual subway - tea - desk routine because I had to hunt down some tights. Shoppers Drug Mart was my only real option, and a small part of me was relishing the idea of spending the day in horrid, shiny, transparent black nylons - there is something really 80's-movie-office-slut about them ("sluttons") that is kind of funny, but first I had to make it to Shopper's (a few blocks away), which brings me back to where I started (fucking-umbrella-toting-motherfuckers are assholes) : people with umbrellas on a rainy day are the worst enemies of the umbrella-less.

1. They immediately assume that they planned ahead whereas you didn't, which gives them an air of moral superiority;
2. they take up loads of room on the sidewalks;
3. they won't get the fuck out of the way; and,
4. they seem completely oblivious to the fact that the contraption that is keeping them dry has MANY POINTY ENDS and extends beyond their immediate range of vision.

The walk to Shoppers was a crazy obstacle course of slow-moving umbrellas, punctuated by the need to continually jump out of the way to avoid losing an eye or otherwise enduring uncomfortable poking and prodding. I did triumph in the end, though, and got two pairs of sluttons for the price of one.