On Thursday, it rained relentlessly. Late in the evening I arrived at my favorite Italian restaurant in NYC.
“Can I take your umbrella?” the hostess, a lovely young lady, asked.
I handed her my umbrella, but the umbrella is old and almost broken, while handing it to her it sprang open.
“I apologize,” I said. “Did I make you wet?” Then I realized that this was a slightly awkward question, so I mumbled “I didn’t intend to make you wet,” which probably only exacerbated the situation.
While leaving the restaurant the hostess touched my shoulder. Usually she doesn’t touch me at all. I took it as a sign of encouragement and forgiveness.