It’s another scorcher in New York City today. I dream of snowflakes and ice storms, thinking that a chilled mental picture will reduce my body temperature to a normal 98 degrees. It’s so hot that I can’t seem to get my brain to function properly – even blogging is a challenge with a fried brain.
I took the subway downtown this morning to Lower Fifth and something happened. I think part of me melted away. Air circulation and ventilation was non-existent on the 1 train. Completely wilted, I reached my destination at 15th Street and 5th Avenue, and I needed a bath towel to be presentable for my meeting. I dried off in the air-conditioning in about 30 minutes, only to return to the convection oven outside on the street.
Enough of the subway! I grabbed the bus on my way home. It was a long ride, nearly an hour, but I had a seat and at least it was cool.
I think this is the hottest on record for me in NYC. Real feel right now – 109. Actually, it is the hottest since 1957. The entire city has a haze of heat over it and smells like a gigantic sewer. And despite the hell-like temperatures, believe it or not, there are men on the streets and in the subways in suits. People are wearing blue jeans and sneakers. I don’t understand it. And they are DRY. They barely look warm. Wearing as little as possible, I am still schvitzing. How embarrassing! I would be completely screwed if I had to wear a jacket, or pants for that matter.
When I lived in Atlanta, I cranked the air and barely left the house in July or August. I didn’t do well as a Southern Belle.
Are there any other women out there like me? I have always been a sweater. I remember in my teens how I sweated rings around the other dancers. My doctor told me that sweating is healthy. It’s a natural way to release all of the toxins stored in the body. In that case, I am definitely the healthiest woman alive.
For whatever reason, it’s more acceptable for a man to sweat, perspire, drip – however you want to phrase it. For a woman, it’s just gross. Even my husband refuses to say that I sweat. He calls it “glistening.”
Any way you look at it, it’s the same thing. A schvitz is a schvitz no matter who does it. Period.
The cold front is approaching, however. By Sunday, it will only be a high of 90.