Well, it's been raining like crazy here in Utah lately.
And since I am way too cheap to pay for a University parking pass, I park inches outside of the "Residents Only" zone near campus and hike three blocks to class in the mornings. Now, I'm a Utahn, and as such, never use an umbrella (see definition of high desert), but all this rain was threatening my expensive university bookstore-bought books...So I caved.
It looked like a conservative umbrella when I first saw it, covered in a plain navy blue case, seemingly the kind Ali's grandma would keep. "Ah, the posession of a woman who preferred utility over fashion," I thought to myself as I shoved it into my backpack.
30 minutes later, I was exiting my car on 3rd South and 11th East into a torrential downpour. As I unsheathed the umbrella and extended it into play, it exploded like a 4th of July snake-in-a-can in a smattering of celestial wonder. In my haste, I had taken...a star umbrella. And I'm not talking supernova star or even glow-in-the-dark star--for that would be manly and cool--I mean the same kind of star found on Old Navy ladies' t-shirts, ball caps worn by European tourists at Zion NP, and the American flag. Not cool...unless you happen to be a grandma, a flag or it happens to be the 4th of July.
So as I walk on campus, trying not to compare the various low-key, neutral, earthtoned umbrellas of passers-by to my bespeckled, flamboyant tribute to "Old Glory," I softly twirl it on my shoulder and discretely hum, "Singing in the Rain."
Now all I need is a bright red hat...
my little homophobe
1 year ago