Dear West Side Wind,
We’ve got to do something about your recent behavior. What happened, man? You were so nice this summer, blowing gently on warm days, taking the edge off when the temperature rose past comfortable. Remember September and October? You were perfect. You made Midtown jealous and east village hipsters feel even more like the man was out to get them. We were tight, you and me.
But lately you’ve been out of control. There’s no other way to put it. Your blinding gusts are freezing faces and making the tiny West Village micro-breed dogs shiver their hypoallergenic fur off. It’s some harsh behavior, man. Especially when it’s this cold out already!
If this is a recognition thing, I know you think no one sees you, but we do. Every morning, as soon as I cross over Broadway I start to see the flags flapping a little harder. I see the gutter trash shifting. I see the cups rocking back and forth. I know you’re working.
There must be some sort of happy medium we can agree upon. Because if you keep gusting so harshly on the west side someone eventually will put up a wall or more buildings or something to keep you from turning us into grimacing icecubes. Then where we all be? Remember, my friend, slow and steady wins the race.
Lastly, and then I’m done, do you remember last week on Christopher Street when you knocked that guy’s hat off his head? And I went to reach for it only to lose my balance and nearly fall on my face? Not cool, man. I looked like an idiot.