Thursday, June 01, 2006
Air Conditioner Rebellion
In an attempt to subjugate the human race, air conditioners around Columbia staged a strike this past week, during the first really hot week of the summer. Right now, some of you are getting ready to tell me that summer doesn’t actually start until June 21. I know, but I choose not to care. For me, summer starts when it’s hot enough outside that you’re willing to go swimming. Keep in mind, I mean that you choose to go swimming without Beer whispering in your ear “Go ahead…it’s almost March, the water can’t be that cold.” Oh, Beer, you merry prankster. When I think back on all the good times we’ve had together, I can see that we were meant to be together.
Right! The air conditioner strike. I first found out about it when I went to a cookout at my friend Avril’s house. She informed me that it was actually nicer outside because her air conditioner was blowing out hot air. It was so hot in the house that the cats were lying so still that Avril thought they were dead. Tuesday night I went to see Davin, Avril’s husband, play with J’Ouvert at the Red Tub. (For the record, you two, spellcheck hates your names, and my page is filling up with red squigglies as I type. It also hates the word squigglies.) It was also hot at the Red Tub. Not scorching, because the sun had set, but it was definitely warm. Thank God my good friend Beer was there to help me stay cool. While J’Ouvert was setting up to play, I walked with Avril to go pick up food for her and Davin. I can’t remember the name of the coffee house where we stopped to grab food, but it will henceforth be known to me as The Hottest Coffee House in All of Creation. Seriously, it was beyond ridiculous, bordering on ridonkulous. The scary thing was that people were still drinking coffee. Apparently they are native to the Sun, or were raised inside of an active volcano by a family of angry bonfires. I could actually feel my brain melting. That being said, eventually Avril’s air conditioner got fixed (hope it’s still working!) and the combination of the great music by J’Ouvert (every Tuesday at 9:00 at the Red Tub) and beer made the night worthwhile.
Luckily for me, my air conditioners are either extremely loyal, or simply didn’t get the memo, because I was rocking a cool 73 degrees at home and in the car. Now, on to important business. None of you are buying t-shirts from Avril and Aubrey. When did you all become Canadian loving commies? Pinko bastards, I bet you’ve been speaking French and using the metric system!
Right! The air conditioner strike. I first found out about it when I went to a cookout at my friend Avril’s house. She informed me that it was actually nicer outside because her air conditioner was blowing out hot air. It was so hot in the house that the cats were lying so still that Avril thought they were dead. Tuesday night I went to see Davin, Avril’s husband, play with J’Ouvert at the Red Tub. (For the record, you two, spellcheck hates your names, and my page is filling up with red squigglies as I type. It also hates the word squigglies.) It was also hot at the Red Tub. Not scorching, because the sun had set, but it was definitely warm. Thank God my good friend Beer was there to help me stay cool. While J’Ouvert was setting up to play, I walked with Avril to go pick up food for her and Davin. I can’t remember the name of the coffee house where we stopped to grab food, but it will henceforth be known to me as The Hottest Coffee House in All of Creation. Seriously, it was beyond ridiculous, bordering on ridonkulous. The scary thing was that people were still drinking coffee. Apparently they are native to the Sun, or were raised inside of an active volcano by a family of angry bonfires. I could actually feel my brain melting. That being said, eventually Avril’s air conditioner got fixed (hope it’s still working!) and the combination of the great music by J’Ouvert (every Tuesday at 9:00 at the Red Tub) and beer made the night worthwhile.
Luckily for me, my air conditioners are either extremely loyal, or simply didn’t get the memo, because I was rocking a cool 73 degrees at home and in the car. Now, on to important business. None of you are buying t-shirts from Avril and Aubrey. When did you all become Canadian loving commies? Pinko bastards, I bet you’ve been speaking French and using the metric system!
