Hey, New York! Blow Me!
What is up with this wind? I repeat this to myself at least a dozen times EVERYDAY it seems, "What is UP with this WIND?" Okay, I know, in New York City, we all expect to deal with the elements. Rain, snow, dog poop, but honestly, the gale force gusts that seem to continually circulate throughout the City are really just beginning to be a little much. I've stopped counting the times the hems of my skirts have floated up to the tip of my hairline when exiting a cab, walking out my front door, or traipsing down to the subway. At this point, God only knows how many strangers have seen my underwear. Today I paid $35.95 for my New York State taxes. Funny thing is, I only owed FIVE dollars but, leave it to the City to manipulate me into staying on my couch. Was I about to brave today's evil, rainy, wind and drag myself to a Kinko's, print my return, and mail it? No. I opted instead to pay Turbo Tax $30.95 to do it for me. And it's your fault. Yes, New York, I'm talking to you. It's also your fault that I ate an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's Strawberries and Cream. I know it was Light, but STILL. Your gusts put me in such a state of distress that there was nothing I could do but stop at Rite Aid and buy comfort food. And you KNOW how eating my feelings makes me feel. Depressed. And sad. And hefty. You know what, you're a big, FAT, apple, that's right, a big, FAT, APPLE. You smell and you're dirty. You are the most unhygienic entity I have EVER encountered. And you're rude. You are SO rude. I dress up for you and what do you do? You rain on me and make me feel constantly insecure about flashing any and everyone on the street. And also, my feet hurt. I'm pretty sure I have heel spurs. And two years ago you gave me pink eye. So, really what I'm saying is: New York, get over yourself, I know you're there, no need to KEEP BLOWING me around, it's time for Spring already. I promise to spend money on you. I'll buy white wine and sit out in your restaurants' many outdoor cafes. I'll see movies in your parks. I'll even buy a mini-skirt. Just show me a little sunshine, a GENTLE breeze, some blossoming trees. I love you, but if this doesn't stop soon, I...well... I may just have to take a break.
Oh yeah, and you owe me $35.95.