Rain Slickers, man.

Sometimes I fantasize about walking in the pouring rain. Like it'd be refreshing. Last week I got caught in the rain twice. The first time I was coming up from the underground part of the Chicago Blueline. It was suddenly very dark out and I wondered, shit, how late did I work? Then I saw black clouds and I thought, shit, I better book it when I get off at the stop. Pulling up at California, and stepping out off the train, boom! Thunder, lightning, and torrential down pour. I hunkered down in the entrance for 10 minutes until it lessened. I thought it was exciting though. Shared some glances with others that had a similar plan, and I was like, this is a nice sense of community.

The next day I was crabby. I was trying to work out something in my mind and while walking home from the Blueline, it rained. A heavy rain. It scattered my thoughts. I pulled out my umbrella from my man bag. Soon after, a gust of wind popped it out so it was concave, facing up. I flipped my wrist to right it. The wind was persistent. A few of these back and forth spars caused the fabric to rip off from the spokes. This irritated me and I cussed and hit it against a sign post. It wasn't my most patient moment. I had felt myself getting soaked. My man bag getting soaked. And instead of feeling recharged by the rain, my anger was fed.

I thought about my destroyed umbrella as a symbol of the day. I thought about ducking into a Walgreen's, but did I want to spend 7 bucks on something the Chicago winds would mess with again? And again. And again. It becomes its own line item to budget: umbrella supply. Plus I've been getting this minor form of OCD lately: during a recent Walgreen's checkout, the terminal asked me if I wanted to donate $1 to fight diabetes, my brain said "if you don't donate right now, you'll get diabetes" and so being soaking wet, I didn't want that kind of pressure.

Rain slickers, man, rain slickers. My consciousness is catching up to their existence, and I'm liking the idea of quitting umbrellas altogether. As I walked some more and looked periodically at the mess of my umbrella's remaining structure, I started to feel good about myself. I had taken out my aggression for the first time in a long time. The day's shortcomings were not taken out on a wife, or a small animal. Instead I demolished an item that's not actually that useful in the windy city.

Rain slickers, man. After a crummy day, the image of a bright yellow rain slicker was a hopeful beam peaking through the overcast.