I should have paid more attention to the metric system in school
*** the journey continues ***
"Yeah," I smile, "it's been a warm one."
"Oh yeah. Been near 40 degrees here all week!"
Now I know this next part sounds cliche' but I swear it's true. He casually swats a fly on the counter with a vicious 'WHACK", then scrapes the remains onto the floor all the while maintaining eye contact. I suspect the fly has more than likely been contemplating suicide for several days, but couldn't muster the energy nor the enthusiasm until this moment.
Something he says wedges in my brain. 40 degrees? What crazy-talk is this? If it were 40 degrees I could see my breath, and all I can see is a faint stream of steam wafting lazily from your Mother.
I look at the man blankly, then I remember - Canada! Different measurement system! My brain hums and vibrates, trying desperately to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit. All that I can remember is 0 degrees Celsius is 32 degrees Fahrenheit. I madly do mental gymnastics. I carry a two. I divide by Pi. Finally I give up. 40 doesn't sound that hot to me, but what do I know? So I do what I do whenever someone is trying to impress me with a bit of knowledge that they assume I will appreciate. I whistle softly, then say "Wow".
"Yeah," he says, and starts to move around the counter. God, please let him be wearing pants! Please let him be wearing pants!
We have a good turn of fortune and he IS wearing pants. Not very attractive ones, but that's beside the point and I don't want to start criticizing his fashion. I have no idea of the local culture. This could be semi-formal dinner wear for all I know. For this is Canada - land of mystery.
"Been a scorcher all right. A real heat-wave," he adds with a slight bob of his head.
Mom and I smile and nod vacantly. I don't know about your Mom, but I'm having trouble focusing.
I think - and this is just some crazy speculation on my part - that I may be a little low on the moisture content.
*** the journey continues tomorrow ***
"Yeah," I smile, "it's been a warm one."
"Oh yeah. Been near 40 degrees here all week!"
Now I know this next part sounds cliche' but I swear it's true. He casually swats a fly on the counter with a vicious 'WHACK", then scrapes the remains onto the floor all the while maintaining eye contact. I suspect the fly has more than likely been contemplating suicide for several days, but couldn't muster the energy nor the enthusiasm until this moment.
Something he says wedges in my brain. 40 degrees? What crazy-talk is this? If it were 40 degrees I could see my breath, and all I can see is a faint stream of steam wafting lazily from your Mother.
I look at the man blankly, then I remember - Canada! Different measurement system! My brain hums and vibrates, trying desperately to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit. All that I can remember is 0 degrees Celsius is 32 degrees Fahrenheit. I madly do mental gymnastics. I carry a two. I divide by Pi. Finally I give up. 40 doesn't sound that hot to me, but what do I know? So I do what I do whenever someone is trying to impress me with a bit of knowledge that they assume I will appreciate. I whistle softly, then say "Wow".
"Yeah," he says, and starts to move around the counter. God, please let him be wearing pants! Please let him be wearing pants!
We have a good turn of fortune and he IS wearing pants. Not very attractive ones, but that's beside the point and I don't want to start criticizing his fashion. I have no idea of the local culture. This could be semi-formal dinner wear for all I know. For this is Canada - land of mystery.
"Been a scorcher all right. A real heat-wave," he adds with a slight bob of his head.
Mom and I smile and nod vacantly. I don't know about your Mom, but I'm having trouble focusing.
I think - and this is just some crazy speculation on my part - that I may be a little low on the moisture content.
*** the journey continues tomorrow ***
Labels: Canada, heat exhaustion, hot, Humor, metric, motorcycle, satire, Victory Vision
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Keep it nice or I release the Zombies.
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