Qiamen Gate, BeijingWhat's the policy on opening umbrellas indoors, or on the subway? I haven't figured it out, and to be honest, here, no one seems to care. There's the poof-poof of fabric catching the air and a crowd watching the umbrella telescope itself into a microscopic object.
I cringe every time it happens, not because I'm superstitious but because the umbrella flares out centimetres from your nose. You might expect it to close quickly but the ever intrepid salesman must twirl it before your eyes. Now look at the inside, don't you see the quality? Oh it's quality alright. Made in Korea. Look right here sir. Now touch that fabric. Not China made. No siree, and he scoffs a little. China? He closes the umbrella in a flash. Whadda ya say? Two thousand won. No? And he turns with a flourish. Now test here and see... His voice fades a little as he turns leaving the umbrella in my hand, perhaps hoping I'll change my mind after I feel it and open it myself.
