JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Walking out into the rain this afternoon Ernie and I realized to our horror that we had matching bright orange umbrellas. Ernie had bought his at a 7-11. I had accidentally stolen the orange umbrella in Paris from my friend’s husband. Accidentally because I thought I’d left it at a museum but when I got back to Manila it was in my luggage, and I would’ve returned it on my next trip except that my friend got a divorce two years after that and I do not acknowledge existence of the ex-husband and anyway he probably considers the umbrella part of their divorce settlement. I know, stupid story.

So Ernie and I had the same umbrella. It’s bad enough that we have the exact same khaki backpack, but having the exact same orange umbrella makes us feel like back-up singers in a music video no one wants to see. We have the exact same khaki backpack because Bert bought one and then told Ernie it was so Ernie, so Ernie bought one too, and then Bert decided it was more me than him so he gave me his backpack, but Ernie and I don’t really mind having identical knapsacks because he carries his like a lady’s handbag and I use mine like a desert explorer’s backpack. I know, stupid story.

“Take this umbrella, I’m getting another one,” Ernie said. We went to a bookstore, where he got this very nice literary umbrella with the faces of Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, and other famous authors on it.

He was very happy with his purchase until we dropped by another store and I heard him gasp. “It’s Alma Moreno’s umbrella in Manila By Night by Ishmael Bernal!” he cried, twirling a transparent plastic bubble umbrella.

“A Bernal hommage!” I said. “I want one, too.” It even comes with directions: “Pop out umbrella and put your head inside. Enjoy the rain.”

So in the end we have five umbrellas between us, and we still have matching umbrellas. I know, stupid story. Good thing someone somewhere is always in need of an umbrella.