Why does a hair-conditioner leave your hair smooth and shiny, restoring moisture and strength (as a bloke I don’t know if any of this is true, by the way, I just read it off a bottle), while an air-conditioner leaves you rough and whiney, ensuring dry-mouthedness and weakness?
In our office there are just two seasons: Winter, when the air-con makes sure it’s cold, and Summer, when the air-con makes sure it’s freezing. It’s more than a little disheartening to look out the window at people walking happily by clad only in shorts and a t-shirt, while we sit in here dressed like a buffalo with a heavy cold. It makes you feel like a child with your face pressed up against the railings of a playground, watching enviously as luckier kids enjoy a magical world of swings and see-saws, or like Scrooge visiting the wonderful parties of his youth with the Ghost of Christmas Past, eager to join in but unable to touch.
The permafrost of our office means that it’s almost impossible to wear just a shirt (on top, obviously, I do wear trousers & other stuff), which on warm but wet days such as today poses a problem. I had to wear a light coat to the bus, but I couldn’t also wear the extra clothing that I knew I’d need later in the office, since it was really warm even at 6.30 and if I had I’d have dissolved like an Alka-Seltzer in hot water. The only answer was to stuff a hoodie into the back pack in which I carry my lunch, my book and, in a pitiful display of optimism, my sunglasses.
Since it was going to spend an hour each way stuffed into a bag I grabbed an old one, one which I normally wear around the house, which was lying rolled up on a chair. I got to work, the air-con noise rose, the air-temperature fell, so I dug out the hoodie and put it on. And looking down reminded me why it had been rolled up on the chair. It was because I spilled red wine on it last Saturday night. In three separate red splotches.
So I spent the day cold. It was the lesser of two evils.