After a long, warm autumn season, I was finally feeling ready for the winter cold to set in. I had always enjoyed bundling up in a cozy winter coat, walking around and enjoying the NYC Christmas festivities, and then rushing inside from the chill to warm myself up with a nice cup of hot cocoa. Ah, what a life – or at least it was, until Jack Frost started nipping at my damn nose.
As the temperature dropped below 50 for the first time, I eagerly stepped outside, only for this bizarrely blue-clad, white-haired gremlin to lunge at my face and take a big ol’ chomp on my nose. I shouted in excruciating pain, and shoved him into the gutter. He laylaid there motionless for a bit, so I turned around and continued on my merry way, thinking that was the end of things. Boy was I wrong.
Now, ever since that fateful December day, every time I step outside I’m immediately met with a 3’10” ice goblin hurling himself at me. Sometimes I’m able to dodge him, as his momentum sends him flying into the wall behind me, but other times I’m not so lucky. Usually, I end up having to wrestle with him on the sidewalk for a bit until his teeth unlodge themselves from my now-mangled nasal cartilage.
It’s not a huge inconvenience to my day or anything. Our tussles usually only take 10-15 minutes, and my clothes usually only get a bit ruined by the disgusting brown water in the street gutters. But I am starting to think – and, you know what, I’ll go out on a limb and just say it – Jack, frankly, it’s starting to get a little bit weird. I really don’t want you to take too much offense from this, as I do appreciate your company – I really do! But the whole biting thing (especially when it makes me 30 minutes late to my final exam) is just getting to be, well, a little much. Maybe from now on we can just say hi, or shake hands? I hope you can understand, Jack.
