It happened Wednesday.
I was standing outside of Penn Station, waiting for R to arrive for our 7.23 minute get together before I caught the 4 something to one of those odd towns on yet another line to see the WeatherGuy... the rain was pouring down, umbrellas fighting each other like crabs on a beach, that "Oh!" smell in the air, that you even find in New York... consisting of rain, cold air and an indefinable scent called...Fall.
There I was, my umbrella carefully rolled up and put away, and this dashing man, in a full gazillion dollar suit, casually strolled in out of the downpour, over to me, smiled and said, "Would you like my umbrella?"
"Oh, no, I'm fine. I have my own." I gestured at my $3.99 Chinatown special, gleefully dripping onto my $15 Chinatown lordknowswhattheleatheris bag.
"I don't mind. Please, take it."
Now, this was NOT your ordinary umbrella. This had a wooden handle, beautifully curved. It was a full sized 'brolly. Black, rich real nylon stretched over steel ribs, yes...oh, yes, this was an umbrella to be reckoned with in the umbrella wars!
I felt a bit of drool leave my lower lip.
"I...I can't. I have one."
He gave mine a look of piorn (pity and scorn). "You know, I'd love for you to have this."
Now, I was not wet, or damp or standing in the rain. I demurred again, pointing out I was waiting for a friend. I actually think I simpered.
He stepped in closer. I could smell his cologne... Rich Guy '07. It went well with Steel Gray at the temples and Deep Blue Eyes.
At this point, I know I was close to swooning.
His voice lowered. "Please. I won't be using it. My car is picking me up. You really should have something nicer than..... that."
"Well, then.... all right."
He moved away... taking my umbrella and his millions.
I came this close to the big one. And the guy was okay, too.