While most people read this story and thought, “Sucks to be Wichita” (By the way, it does. It’s not the most pleasant town ever), I read it and was instantly able to relate.
My car conducts heat like that all of the time.
Recently, my giant tank of a vehicle decided it no longer wanted to condition my air. I’m assuming it decided that stagnant air was better for my pores because it has clearly turned itself into a nice sauna.
This wouldn’t be too unpleasant if it weren’t for two facts: I live in Kansas City and my vehicle conducts heat like an oven.
For those uninitiated to Kansas City, we are famous for our jazz, our barbeque, and our 3,000% humidity. Every summer, you can watch people walk outside of their nice air conditioned homes and immediately be drenched in sweat.
Since my air conditioner has stopped blowing cold air, I have a couple of choices. I can turn on the air and be pelted with air so hot that you might confuse it with a convection oven. This is unpleasant, but it does, at the very least, make the air around me move for a bit. If that seems like a bad situation, though, I can roll down my window and be drenched like a SeaWorld exhibit in a matter of minutes.
This came to my attention the other day. I was on my way to pick up my wonderful wife who nannys for three delightful children. One of these kids was having a birthday, so I was going to drop in and say hi.
Now, I’m not usually concerned with fitting in with my surroundings. I am a content person who is fine with the way I look, the way I dress, etc.
When I go to this neighborhood, though, I stick out like a sore thumb. A 1994 Ford Explorer does not blend in well with a gently used BMW or a brand new Audi. I usually get the feeling as I drive through the neighborhood that the housewives out for their mid-afternoon speed walk are wondering which house I am planning on robbing.
Very much aware of this, I was hoping to avoid looking like a creepy, sweaty guy in an old SUV. I did nearly everything I could do to short of hanging my head out of the window like a dog. I figured that activity is dangerous while driving.
There was no stopping it, though. By the time I arrived, I was the recipient of the there-goes-the-neighborhood glances I had been hoping to avoid.
I should just take my car to have the problem taken care of. It’s probably a quick fix.
It probably costs money, though.
I wonder how much it costs to have a car seat cover made out of those medical ice packs that in school nurse’s offices…. I could just bring my seat cover in at night, throw it in the freezer, than in the morning, I have a cool chilled seat to protect me from the summer heat.
Until I get one of those, I’ll just sweat it out in my sweatbox on wheels.
It’s good for my complexion.