Ah. Comedy.

The remnants of Katrina have arrived in Montreal this morning. Gray skies, forceful wind, and water, water everywhere.

But this time I was SMART. I thought AHEAD. I had … AN UMBRELLA. I was protected from rain.

But not from comedy.

The scene. Our hero, the Code Ronin, steps out of his ride. His umbrella blooms above him, smashing away Katrina’s blast. Serene and in control, he moves around back to grab his gear.

Bending over though, he completely munges the air flow that is keeping his ‘brella’s shape. The wind gets under it, grabs the edge, snaps it up. A useless parabola it has become. And our hero is getting wet.

He snaps back up, and wrangles the windy bitch to undo its own work and fix his umbrella. Once all is well, he goes for his gear again … and again his ‘brella suffers. He swears he hears an old hag’s laughter. Again, he forces the fix.

And he thinks.

He contorts his body to flex down and snag his gear while manipulating his ‘brella to surf the rainy currents. Twisted, awkward, but dry, he succeeds!!!!

It’s his turn to laugh now, as he shuts the door and turns to the street to walk across to warmth and work (one out of two ain’t too bad).

Which is when a SUV rolls by, tsunami-generating tires soaking him with water.

And that bitch Katrina is howling.