Rain, man!

Washington DC can be characterized by the following pissy items: a piss-poor political administration, the mysterious odor of piss on the Metro and in public buildings (most notably the White House), and the contemptuous pissing down of rain. From misty to torrential downpour DC has got you covered, quite literally-- covered head to toe with water, despite your vain attempts to direct your petty umbrella in the direction where the most rain is coming from.

The umbrella is almost pointless in DC's malevolent wind and rainy season. The rain, guided swiftly by DC's obnoxiously unpredictable gusts of wind, sends cascades of moisture scurrying this way and that like a herd of antelope evading a predator. No matter which direction you point your umbrella to combat this precipitating attack by mother nature, the wind somehow manages to circumvent every inch of polyester and soak your legs, torso, and aspirations of arriving to work without your clothes cementing to your body.

I have to wonder ... what's the point? I may as well just wear a plastic grocery bag over my face and call it a day.

And what is the deal with the extra-large umbrellas??? I am for serious-- umbrellas should be regulated so that they are a size proportional to the carrier's body!!! I saw a 90 pound 5'3" lady walking around today with an umbrella that looked like China on a stick. As she was cruising down the street, her dark dome eclipsing almost all of the natural light beneath itself, she continuously rammed every other regular-sized brolly like bumper boats in the air.

Water flying, people whipping around angrily to see who was piloting the polyester vessel, short utterances of surprise and consternation ... unfortunately this woman couldn't hear a blessed thing as her umbrella acoustics only allowed for the reverberation of her own ignorance to the world beyond her 10-food diameter dry zone.

It all ties into the American value of "happy me, screw you hippies". Dry, content, and oblivious to anything other than what is dry and content, we are pleased ... and anyone in the way can take a supersoaker up their arse (why did the song "Superman" just pop into my head). The greater good, i.e. civility and courteousness, can drown itself in its own tears of impertinence; my rights come before yours.

So as I steer my umbrella in the DC breeze, more like a kite than anything else, and enjoy a good lashing of a rain that travels sideways and on occasion from the ground up, I begin to wonder if that lady is also the line-cutter at the grocery store, the intersection-blocker at a stop light, the person who boards a Metro car before others have exited, or the cell phone talker at the movies ... Could they all be the same person???

Not to rain on anyone's parade, but unfortunately there is more than just one umbrella lady out there ...