A painting of me

An Umbrella

   29 August 2005, the wee hours

Tyler was in town for the weekend. I spent a good chunk of Saturday with him. After wandering around downtown trying to track down shoes with Sean the two of us headed off to Matt’s place for what would turn out to be dinner — we had planned to sit around and do nothing. No sooner had we started the trek to Matt’s place when it began to drizzle. We walked in the rain for a few minutes, taking a detour through a small side road which ran through a very swanky neighbourhood behind Bloor.

The first house on this street had a small pole out front, and leaning on this pole was an umbrella. I asked Tyler, “Hey, do you want to steal the umbrella?”

We took a few more steps forward and then I think it registered in Tyler’s head what I had said. He walked back, picked up the umbrella, and we were on our way, shielded from the rain — somewhat anyway. The umbrella was small, but quite fancy. It was broken, so we decided the owner must be some rich Yorkville resident who decided they’d just buy a new umbrella rather than use this old broken one. I think we decided this story was the best because it is the sort of scenario that lets you feel OK with stealing somebody’s umbrella.

It could not have been more than a few minutes after we found the umbrella that it started raining quite hard. If we didn’t find that umbrella we would have been soaked.

Don’t you see, Vince, that shit don’t matter. You’re judging this thing the wrong way. It’s not about what. It could be God stopped the bullets, he changed Coke into Pepsi, he found my fuckin’ car keys. You don’t judge shit like this based on merit. Whether or not what we experienced was an according-to-Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is I felt God’s touch, God got involved. — Jules, Pulp Fiction



  1. Stealing other people’s stuff is lame.

  2. Thanks for supplying a moral to my story.

  3. Broken or not.. that umbrella was not sent from God to provide for your comfort. It was purchased by someone who needed one and had the forethought to do so.
    Bitter am I? Well ya. Your little storie jogged my memory back some 30 or so years. I worked in a bank in Ottawa years ago. There was this pink umbrella that I bought. I loved it.. bubblegum pink. It was costly but needed. Long story short.. one of my co-workers lifted it. When she came trapesing in next rainfall under myyy bubblegum pink umbrella I faced her down. She winced and shifted from one foot to the other… then finally admitted she’d stolen it. GAD how lame. And a banker too.

  4. Cat, I don’t actually think God was the force that provided me with an umbrella that day; that’s just how I justify knicking someones umbrella.

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