Rainy day

It's a rainy day in New York City.

I went out for breakfast at a diner, and while I sat there eating my two-eggs-over-easy-bacon-and-hash-browns, the skies opened up. I had another cup of coffee but it didn't seem to let up. My hotel's three blocks away, so I just figured I'd get wet, go back to my room and dry off.

On the way there, one gentleman sitting the the foyer of the diner offered me the use of his umbrella if I wanted to walk south two blocks to 7-11 and buy one of my own - "Just as long as you promise to come back." I thanked him for his kindness, but told him I would take my chances going north.

As I stood at the corner of 45th and 11th waiting for the light to change, cold rain running down the back of my shirt, a woman with an umbrella moved over to me and held it up to shelter me, then as the light changed we walked in tandem across the street. I thanked her, too, and walked with her to a hardware store, where I ducked in hoping to find an umbrella of my own.

The beefy guy behind the counter rang up a cheap folding one for me. "What's the price on 'is?" he asked his co-worker.

"Nine ninety nine," the other man said.

"Fuh dis? Y'kidding me right?" He looked it over. "This ain't worth that. Fi' dollar," he said, and rang it up.

People are kind.