I was getting ready for work one morning. The sky was dark with rain clouds, though the forecast promised it wouldn't start raining until the afternoon.
"Do you have an extra umbrella?" I asked my parents.
"Here," my dad said, handing me one from their closet.
"Thanks," I put it in my backpack on the back of my wheelchair and headed out the door.
I didn't like driving in the rain and was really grateful it hadn't begun, but I'd left a few minutes early just in case. I arrived a half hour before my shift. I considered going into work, but since it didn't rain I used the extra time to stop at my favorite cafe for coffee and a blueberry muffin.
Big mistake.
As I sat at my usual spot by the window awaiting my order, it began to rain. The waitress arrived with a fresh pot of coffee and a hot blueberry muffin, which she placed in front of me.
"I hope you brought an umbrella," she said, as she poured the coffee.
"Oh yes, in my back pack," I assured her.
I reached inside my bag, beside the umbrella and pulled out a book. It was the perfect morning. I wished I could spend the rest of the day with my nose in a book, nibbling my blueberry muffin and sipping coffee to the steady rhythm of pouring rain.
After finishing my first cup of coffee, I looked at my watch. I had five minutes. It would take me that long to get there. The rain let up, but there was still a light drizzle. I debated waiting a bit longer, but decided not to. I got into my van barely dampened and drove down the street to work.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I was shocked to find there was nowhere to park. My job was at a call center and although we shared a building with two other businesses, we rarely had an issue with parking. I drove around to the other parking lot and saw the issue -- Road Work.
"Where do they expect me to park?" I fumed at no one.
I drove around the block and finally found a spot across the street.
"Well, at least it quit raining," I said out loud.
I should have kept my mouth shut.
A loud boom of thunder, then the rain came down in sheets. I sat frozen in disbelief for a moment. Then I looked at my watch. I was already ten minutes late. I would surely be reprimanded. I was not a tardy person, but the policies were strict - first time offense put you on automatic probation. I would have gone home, called in, but I was never good about making excuses. I just wasn't raised that way. So I got my umbrella out and exited my van.
Getting my wheelchair out of the van was easy. All I had to do was push a few buttons and the automatic door would open, a claw would swing the wheelchair out, lower it and that was it. All I had to do was unstrap it. Thanks to the gust of wind that accompanied the rain, the wheelchair was blown violently against the van.
"Oh come on!" I shouted in frustration.
I crawled over the backseat and leaned out to steady the wheelchair as it lowered to the ground. As soon as it was down I climbed back up front to turn off the van and retrieve the umbrella.
The lift and back door worked weather the van was on or off thanks to the back up battery, so once I climbed out of the back door and into the chair, I opened the umbrella and moved away from the van to close it up with the remote. I put the remote and keys in my purse, adjusted my wheelchair settings and waited at the curb for my chance to cross the street.
Suddenly, a gust of wind attempted to sweep the umbrella out of my grasp. I struggled with it as the signal to cross began flashing. I steered the wheelchair gear forward with my right hand, while the left was fighting a losing battle. I made it across the street and I thought I'd finally be able to beat the wind, but the rain fell harder and in combination with another gust of wind, turned my umbrella inside out!
"Fine!" I shouted, "Take it!" and I threw the broken umbrella on the sidewalk.
The rain continued its steady downpour as I rolled down the sidewalk, up the ramp and into the office building. I entered the room where our cubicles were, some of my coworkers eyeing me with sadness, amusement or shock. I wheeled up to my supervisor and she covered her mouth. She was probably concerned about showing the appropriate response. I probably looked pathetic - a tiny girl in a wheelchair, drenched, shivering, on the verge of tears.
"I know I'm late, but can I go to the bathroom to dry off?" I asked in a low voice.
"Yes," she said, "and don't worry about being late -- are you okay?" she said, concerned.
"The wind broke my umbrella," I answered.
"Okay, go get dried off," she said.
Later, when I came back to my desk there was a tall black umbrella leaning against it with a note that said:
This one is wind proof.
And it was.
Big mistake.
As I sat at my usual spot by the window awaiting my order, it began to rain. The waitress arrived with a fresh pot of coffee and a hot blueberry muffin, which she placed in front of me.
"I hope you brought an umbrella," she said, as she poured the coffee.
"Oh yes, in my back pack," I assured her.
I reached inside my bag, beside the umbrella and pulled out a book. It was the perfect morning. I wished I could spend the rest of the day with my nose in a book, nibbling my blueberry muffin and sipping coffee to the steady rhythm of pouring rain.
After finishing my first cup of coffee, I looked at my watch. I had five minutes. It would take me that long to get there. The rain let up, but there was still a light drizzle. I debated waiting a bit longer, but decided not to. I got into my van barely dampened and drove down the street to work.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I was shocked to find there was nowhere to park. My job was at a call center and although we shared a building with two other businesses, we rarely had an issue with parking. I drove around to the other parking lot and saw the issue -- Road Work.
"Where do they expect me to park?" I fumed at no one.
I drove around the block and finally found a spot across the street.
"Well, at least it quit raining," I said out loud.
I should have kept my mouth shut.
A loud boom of thunder, then the rain came down in sheets. I sat frozen in disbelief for a moment. Then I looked at my watch. I was already ten minutes late. I would surely be reprimanded. I was not a tardy person, but the policies were strict - first time offense put you on automatic probation. I would have gone home, called in, but I was never good about making excuses. I just wasn't raised that way. So I got my umbrella out and exited my van.
Getting my wheelchair out of the van was easy. All I had to do was push a few buttons and the automatic door would open, a claw would swing the wheelchair out, lower it and that was it. All I had to do was unstrap it. Thanks to the gust of wind that accompanied the rain, the wheelchair was blown violently against the van.
"Oh come on!" I shouted in frustration.
I crawled over the backseat and leaned out to steady the wheelchair as it lowered to the ground. As soon as it was down I climbed back up front to turn off the van and retrieve the umbrella.
The lift and back door worked weather the van was on or off thanks to the back up battery, so once I climbed out of the back door and into the chair, I opened the umbrella and moved away from the van to close it up with the remote. I put the remote and keys in my purse, adjusted my wheelchair settings and waited at the curb for my chance to cross the street.
Suddenly, a gust of wind attempted to sweep the umbrella out of my grasp. I struggled with it as the signal to cross began flashing. I steered the wheelchair gear forward with my right hand, while the left was fighting a losing battle. I made it across the street and I thought I'd finally be able to beat the wind, but the rain fell harder and in combination with another gust of wind, turned my umbrella inside out!
"Fine!" I shouted, "Take it!" and I threw the broken umbrella on the sidewalk.
The rain continued its steady downpour as I rolled down the sidewalk, up the ramp and into the office building. I entered the room where our cubicles were, some of my coworkers eyeing me with sadness, amusement or shock. I wheeled up to my supervisor and she covered her mouth. She was probably concerned about showing the appropriate response. I probably looked pathetic - a tiny girl in a wheelchair, drenched, shivering, on the verge of tears.
"I know I'm late, but can I go to the bathroom to dry off?" I asked in a low voice.
"Yes," she said, "and don't worry about being late -- are you okay?" she said, concerned.
"The wind broke my umbrella," I answered.
"Okay, go get dried off," she said.
Later, when I came back to my desk there was a tall black umbrella leaning against it with a note that said:
This one is wind proof.
And it was.
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