(Don’t worry, I will take you back to Costa Rica real soon…I just couldn’t let this go.)
I know what you were thinking today, as you were awoken by the piercing screams of your twin demon spawn in your two-bedroom-plus-den condo on your brownstone-lined street. It was only 6:23 a.m. and your chance to sleep in this Saturday had been shot to hell, and you’re still a little groggy and pissed off that the wifey didn’t comply with your Friday-night, 15-minute, pre-scheduled sex romp
So, as you went downstairs to enjoy some coffee and “SportsCenter,” your wife turned to tell you that you were out of soy milk and could you go get some right away because the twins are hungry and they are lactose intolerant to your 2% that’s still in the fridge? And so, on this shitty-ass Saturday morning in the midst of one of the worst Nor’easters the Nor’east had ever seen, you took your $5 umbrella you had purchased from the news agent outside work last night, put on your shoes and trudged out the door.
But, alas, on your walk to the Trader Joe’s in the wind and rain you realized after a few flip-outs that your $5 umbrella was inferior! Inferior! And you, a midlevel partner at one of the few hedge funds left running in the Financial District will not have it! Are you not a man?
And you were furious all of a sudden. You thought about your shitty life, about that $50K you blew on fertility treatments for demon kids you don’t want anyway and the fact that you can’t go out on a Sunday afternoon and drink margaritas and smoke cigarettes and sit out on the cool sidewalk patios with all your friends, freely saying “fuck” whenever you please. And then you saw me walking through the front door, unencumbered by strollers, inlaws and playdates—and you were pissed. So pissed off, in fact, that you eyed my beautiful new umbrella—a $12, navy-blue one—that was carefully selected at Kmart just a couple weeks prior and you had to have it because you needed to fuck up my glorious day.
And you took it. On one of the shittiest weather days in all of New York’s history, you decided to take my brand-new umbrella—in fact, one of my favorite umbrellas I’ve ever owned. And for this, you are above and beyond an Asshat. For taking someone’s umbrella out of the umbrella bucket by the door—a true testament to one’s faith in their fellow humankind (a gamble I usually wouldn’t take except I was in such a good mood from my vacation)—is one of the most inexcusable offenses ever committed.
So you may have my umbrella now, Asshat, but know this: There are not that many navy-blue umbrellas in Brooklyn, and I will find you.