Sick City Windows

Birds are just one of the many creatures that freak me out, you know, like babies, blondes, old people, nearly all of the ocean, etc. Yesterday I actually had to give a pidgeon the right of way and it really doesn’t even surprise me anymore because all of my life birds have sensed my hatred and have sought to enact revenge. In Florida they were always diving at my car, I’ve been pooped on more than one human should ever be defecated on in their life (unless you’re into that sort of thing), and honestly just the mere fact that they fly and have thus one upped humans with their perfect vantage point has never sat well with me. Even writing this post I’m having serious anxiety, but maybe it will give me really swanky bird karma and stop the perpetual war between us. The totally crazy part is that my last name, Wachtel, means anything from quail, to old hen, to silly goose in German. It’s like I’m being shunned by a community I was kind of born into, or maybe I’m doing the shunning. I don’t know. This must be how Michael felt about being black. And middle aged.

Despite featuring my arch nemeses, and this really weird moment in visual merchandising, these windows are pretty rad…

Um, I’m sorry but what the fuck do YOU mean what do birds need?

Bergdorf Goodman, 754 Fifth Ave, 800.558.1855