As you’ve probably noticed, there’s a low key hurricane outside today. The wind’s blowing more than Robin Williams next to a coffee table, and it’s raining at an acute angle (9th grade geometry and cocaine references in one sentence nbd). I usually don’t pack an umbrella and raw dog storms, but my mom wouldn’t let me leave the house this morning without one, so I ended up carrying an umbrella today. Worst mistake I ever made, so I thought.
Why was it a terrible decision? Well I was catwalking from the library to class, strutting my shit all around campus like a show pony, when all of a sudden a wind gust comes right for my tight little boy scout ass. While that happens, the wind takes my umbrella and puts it more inside out than Caitlin Jenner (she actually went outside in, but you get the point).
At first I was embarrassed. Maybe even horrified. My umbrella showed weakness, and as as an extension of my outfit, made me look weak. You’re only as strong as your weakest link, and my umbrella broke my chain today. I was ready to retire the umbrella. Take it out back and shoot it. Then, like always, my out of the box thinking came into play.
See, I started my day with an umbrella, but thanks to the wind, I now have a weapon. A police baton disguised as an REI accessory. A pimp cane with the capability to kill. This brings up the question: Was breaking my umbrella the worst mistake nature has ever made?
Before my umbrella broke, I was just another kid capable of killing someone with my bare hands. Dust in the wind. Not anymore. Nope. You just gave the bank robber the gun. The bad man has the nuclear codes. Daddy’s home and he’s been drinking. The belt’s coming off.
So thanks, Mother Nature, I walked outside today with a measly umbrella. I’ll come home with a piece of riot gear. I’m Jason Fucking Bourne.