I was walking in Red Hook the other day. It was cold as a motherfucker. Then came the wind. I was leaning forward at a 45 degree angle; it was like climbing a steep hill. Tosso, trying to see the bright side, said, "well at least the wind will be going the same direction as we are on the way home."
"Don't be to sure about that," I said, having observed that the wind often changes, for some strange reason, and I get it gusting in my face, blowing off my hood, making my eyes water, cracking my lips, no matter which way I am headed, as if it is some strange metaphor for my life.
We made it to Fairway with only mild ear pain and loaded up on groceries to lug back in our packs. Froot Loops were on special and I got two huge boxes for seven bucks. Score!
On the way home, luck was on our side, and the wind was at our backs. What a difference. So much easier to walk. But then came the paranoia. If the wind is coming from behind us, then I won't be able to see when some huge chunk of garbage or a garbage can lid comes flying at me. I fantasized about a flimsy section of a corrugated metal wall with razor wire on top, which I was walking next to, getting ripped out and toppling over on me... getting sliced by the wire. Or those chalkboards that stores put out - one of those could totally come flying at me and I wouldn't know it... At least it wasn't raining so I wouldn't have to contend with stray umbrellas spiraling towards me - especially those cheap, two dollar umbrellas that invert at the first sign of wind and lie scattered on the sidewalks after a good rain.
Needless to say, I made it home in one piece where I promptly treated myself to not one, but two bowls of Froot Loops.
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