He said, "I'll give you mine."
I felt as if I had misunderstood him, and asked him to repeat it which he did.
So I protested oh no, no... and he rummages around on the front passenger seat and holds up the typical what I call street umbrella... one you duck into a store to buy when you're caught in the rain.
I then said something unfortunate. I said "Oh someone left this in the cab... their loss is my gain."
He then said that it WAS his umbrella. So I said I couldn't take his umbrella and he said he had two.
So I took it. When we were arriving at the restaurant, I thought I should tip him well, but then I didn't want to give a tip that looked like I was paying for the umbrella which I thought would take the giftiness out of it.
The fare was $9 and I would typically give a $2 tip so I gave him $3 for a tip.
People who have never lived in big cities think we all go around mugging each other. I have always maintained that helping someone in a big city means more than helping someone in a small town because you are not helping Susan's son or Bert's cousin -- you're helping a total stranger.
Then when I arrived at lunch, Barbara brought me a book from an author we're both enjoying. When I got home (and it stopped raining), I sat on my steps for a while, photographed my loot and enjoyed the afternoon.
Book, Umbrella and even a little shopping bag.
|Doesn't look too autumny on my block yet.|