Tuesday 200 - #67
Come on, like you’ve never taken anything you found in a cab? How many umbrellas have you left in taxis over the years? Dozens, right? So you really can’t blame me for stashing it in my backpack.
A couple days later, this hottie tourist is chatting me up on the F-train. She likes the Blessed Virgin tattoo on my forearm — it’s a total babe magnet. Way better than the naked broad it’s covering up.
She wants me to show her the Chelsea Hotel, so we get out at 23rd Street. Outta the friggin’ blue, it starts pissing rain.
“Hang on, gorgeous. I gotcha covered.” I sling off my backpack and whip out my taxi trophy. With a flick of the wrist I raise it to the sky and press the button. No weather’s gonna dampen my good luck.
“What the … ?” my damsel-now-distressed cries out.
Silver and white glitter pours down on us, like a damn drag queen has exploded. A pink index card dangles from a rubber cord … “Surprise! You found the umbrella fairy!”
She busts out laughing. “Oh my god, I love it! My brother’s gay too! Take me to Splash!”
What the hell is Splash?
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