Walking the dog through a steady drizzle in Davis square this morning, I noticed that everyone had their umbrellas open. The sidewalks aren't wide, so everyone took a turn in the you-lean-this-way-I'll-lean-that-way dance, to avoid eyeball injury. As I bobbed and weaved, I thought about the unwritten social code that mandates participation in this dance. And those people who choose to sit out: Do they not know better? Are they oblivious? Do they have it out for my eyeballs?
It reminded me of a weekend spent in New York City with friends from New Mexico. (Stay with me--you'll see how this relates. Really.) It was their first trip to the Big Apple, and they spent it with heads tilted back, a la Pez form, in constant awe. In advance, they had compiled a list of things they wanted to see--the Statue of Liberty, the World Trade Center site, Macy's, the Flatiron building, the Empire State Building. Things they'd seen on TV or in the movies, basically. We walked the city, crossing destinations off the list, covering miles and miles of sidewalk on foot.
But there was something else that hadn't even made the list, something they'd never witnessed and hadn't thought to anticipate: a rainy day. Sure, it rains in New Mexico. But they don't get the all-day-dumpers that we see here. In fact, they get so little of it--and in such short bursts--that this pair had never even used an umbrella. Let me say that again, in case you missed it: They had never used an umbrella. In all their lives, people. Even now, a few years later, it still doesn't quite make sense to me, but there you have it.
So we get a full day of rain in New York City. And we hand over wads of wet cash to the guys hawking umbrellas on the street, because what else were we to do? As we walk, umbrellas open overhead, one of the New Mexicans says, "I feel so self conscious with this thing. I'm not even sure how to use it."
How to use an umbrella? It had never occurred to me that this was a learned skill. But there you have it. So the lesson is: Next time some ass nearly takes out your eye with his umbrella, give him the benefit of the doubt. He might be from New Mexico.
3 comments:
In college, a friend of mine and I discussed umbrella etiquette at length. Unfortunately, the students at Penn State were all too happy to take out your eye, so I've hated umbrellas ever since. I still will only use one in extreme circumstances, but still complain loudly that my legs are going to get really wet.
My wife and I took her 'rents to NYC for a weekend last October. It was their first trip, and it rained (as it has rained on nearly all of my visits to the Big Apple). We're all from Boston, so NYC is nice to visit once in awhile, and the in-laws were really looking forward to their PEZ-head experience. The rain limited that to only a few hours on the first day and instead we spent the weekend pumping out arms and fists up and down like pistons to pump our umbrellas higher or lower to avoid crashing into others. Even though I was still relatively inexperienced, it seemed easy enough to understand. But I might not have known if I didn't see how others did it. Funny you would liken it to a dance, because I learned how to dance the same way... by watching others.
I can understand how umbrellas require some getting used to. You need to figure out how to hold it in the wind, how to use it to protect the largest possible space on you (and when to give up in the face of horizontal rain), etc.
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