The best lessons learned are those we experience firsthand. My lesson for the day: there are umbrellas and there are New York City Umbrellas. Who knew?

Walking down Flatbush Avenue toward LIU with my cheesy Minnesota umbrella (and a 40 wind gust having its way with it), the thing snapped itself shut – inside out – and rain, like tiny nails, pelted my cheeks.

A half block to go. My pants were getting wet. My shoes started to leak. Luckily my ride showed up. I hopped in the car, placing the umbrella on the floor. He looked at it with disgust. “That is a really shitty umbrella!” he said, chastising me for bringing the shameful thing into The City.

I won’t give up my little red umbrella, it’s just fine for my other life. But I have a feeling there will be more days like this and I’ll have to get a new one. Now I know.  I won’t have to fear a day like today. I will slog down the sidewalk like a real New Yorker, with my sturdy, unsnapable New York City umbrella.