It was REALLY cold this past Friday.
I guess that's why my car decided to stop spitting out hot air.
In fact, it chose to only give me super cold air. It was taking the cold wet air of the outside, chilling it about ten degrees cooler and then shoving it at my face. As I drove home in my new ice box, I fiddled with the controls that control the air. I pushed them down to cold and back to hot, hoping to reset something inside the heater. I turned the dial from fresh air to recirculate a few times hoping that one would be warmer than the other. Nothing changed the status of the air inside the car.
As cars passed me driving the other direction, I noticed how warm and cozy the drivers appeared to be in their cars. I dreamed of being that warm. Then I imagined how they were seeing me? Would they notice the blanket wrapped around my chest and the clouds of cold air that was my breath? Would they see my thick winter gloves?
For every minute that passed during the next thirty minutes, I became colder. At one point I thought, "I can't get colder than this." and then a few minutes later, I proved myself wrong.
When I arrived home I complained to the whole family about my car and how it tortured me horribly during my drive. I got some sympathy and also some laughter in return of my story.
This weekend Cari took my car to the grocery store two miles from the house. When she came home, she bragged how hot the air got. She said she even had to turn the temperature sliders down half way. She laughed and said I should be nicer to the car.
Seriously? It's a car! If I want (need) hot air, then I expect it. It's not about being "nice".
Just in case I'm not being quite nice enough, I've decided to either keep all my blankets and gloves with me in the car or just keep Cari in the car on cold days.
No comments:
Post a Comment