I brought all of the groceries in from the car and began putting things away, wiping my forehead frequently along the way. My leg brushed up against one of the lower cabinets in my kitchen and slid across the door. It hit me.
SHE TURNED OFF THE AIR CONDITIONING.
The Wife and I come from very different schools of thought on using the central air. She believes that the breeze from nature, a passing car or a neighbor farting is enough to naturally cool the house. Open go the windows, off goes the air con and on go the sweat glands on my neck.
Me? I think that the A/C should go on in May and turn off some time in October. Every once in awhile, when the heat and humidity are low and the wind is strong, windows are fine. The air in the house gets stale and needs a refresh. That’s fine. Otherwise, the gentle whirr of the condenser is all the comfort I need.
I quote from the wise and learned Drew Magary of Deadspin:
I have two women in my life – my wife and my mother – who have an inexplicable aversion to air conditioning. My wife hates turning on the AC in the car or in the house at night. She says, “Let’s do windows!” Then she opens the windows and turns the AC off. “See, isn’t this fresh air nice?” Meanwhile, all my major organs are shutting down, I’ve turned our Sealy Posturepedic into a makeshift waterbed, and I’m experiencing the third stage of heat stroke. Hey lady, it’s five million fucking degrees out there. CRANK THAT SHIT. We’re not on a fucking NOLS trip, okay? This is fucking CIVILIZATION.
My primary issue is that I sweat like a monster. Liquid pores out of me as if I were one of those zen fountains that mid-level managers kept on their desks during the early 2000s. This entire screed would have been posted already, if not for the fact that the runoff from my forehead is stinging my eyes.
So, why not stake my royal claim as the man of the house, declare this my castle and turn the air conditioning on? All of the windows in the house are open, which means I would have to go upstairs to close them. Now, this may sound like laziness, but our upstairs is always very hot. The moment that the air con is turned off, our second floor transforms itself into a South American jungle sans animals.
Discomfort may just win out over certain death.
I’ll cut her some slack today. She went out this morning and bought coffee and bagels for breakfast. Drove out to Bruegger’s in Liverpool and everything. She’s a nice lady, The Wife is. So, I’ll cut her some slack and leave the windows open, but she may need to borrow a wet-dry vac later to clean up after whatever is left of me.
UPDATED 5:19 P.M.: Rather than turn the A/C off completely, The Wife kicked up the temperature to 81 degrees. After chatting with The Neighbor and coming inside, the air con kicked on. I braved the upstairs to shut the windows. All is right in the world.