: that isn’t a car :

Don’t be fooled by appearances. That’s an oven. A 4-door, 5-passenger, all-wheel drive oven.

The tires are what threw me, but it really does look like a car; my car. So imagine my surprise when I unlocked the door and hopped in. The instant my butt hit the seat, I sizzled and became self-basting.

Fortunately, sweating is healthy, it’s our air conditioning system. The human body has three million sweat glands (+ / -) working to regulate our internal temperature. Located in the layer of skin called the dermis, alongside nerve endings and hair follicles, sweat glands come in two types: eccrine (scattered all over) and apocrine (restricted mostly to the armpits).

Eccrine sweat glands secrete a fluid composed primarily of water, but with high concentrations of sodium and chloride, as well. Sweat from apocrine glands is similar, but with the addition of proteins and fatty acids — substances that lead to the ugly yellow armpit stains on clothing. The maximum amount of sweat a human body can produce is in the 2- to 3-liter per hour range. Perspiring, while beneficial, is a messy, unsightly business.

Nevertheless, sweating is what I do, because the air conditioning in my car is on the fritz. Driving even short distances requires very great fortitude. Remember the hot box in Cool Hand Luke? Like that. Yesterday, the air temperature reached a toasty 94º, but with humidity factored in it felt like a colossal 110º. Inside the car, though, the temperature was upwards of 5,000º. I’m not kidding, it was surface-of-the-sun hot.

The car is black, a heat absorbing color, and the seats are vinyl. So after sitting in the sun and preheating to ungodly temperatures, I was driving a skillet. Touching the steering wheel caused second-degree burns and I almost suffocated waiting at a stoplight. Plus, I worried my shorts would combust as my brain simmered quietly. Through it all, however, I was a sprinkler system — spurting and gushing and happy as a clam.

Welcome to July, everyone!

copyright © 2018 the whirly girl

14 thoughts on “: that isn’t a car :

  1. I feel your pain. Literally. The air is gone on my car and we have had over 100 here for days. The only thing I don’t have is vinyl seats. Thank goodness! Because my swamp ass is definitely out of control. I have nearly passed out just on the 45 minute drive to and from work. I have started taking an electrolyte replacement drink every time I get out of the car. In theory I should be thin as a rail by now. That’s how jockeys get their weight down. Sitting in the sweat box. Somehow I am just a big old blob of sweat. Good luck with the rest of the summer. Think cool thoughts.

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    1. 45 minutes? Ohmygod, I’d be dead after 10 and I’m not exaggerating. Even without the vinyl seats, I probably couldn’t last much beyond 20. But outside, in the open air? I’m perfectly comfortable. It’s that damn car — ai yi yi 🤢

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  2. May I, please, take the liberty of offering a small correction to this otherwise erudite and amusing little tale? You see, according to a famous quote, horses sweat and men perspire, but women only glow.

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  3. OK…summer’s fine..but that’s just a little too toasty… perhaps a towel on the driver’s seat might help? Aircon is expensive to run, but the only way I can survive anything above about 70 degrees F!

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