I’m sick of everyone whining about the heat. The weather is great. You want cold? Then remember what it’s like when you walk out of the office in minus 20°C (-4°F). You get to your car—and it’s turned into a snowdrift. By the time you reach the door, your boots are already full of lovely freezing snow. You open the door as carefully as possible so the snow piled on the roof won’t fall into the cabin. At the last second, of course, it falls anyway and dumps snow all over the door and the driver’s seat. The window control buttons in the door are, naturally, buried in snow too. So they don’t short out, you first try to pick it all out, and then realize it’s pointless. You start the car. Already thinking in advance about how VERY, VERY cold the steering wheel is going to be. And it really is VERY, VERY cold. The seat heater won’t kick in for another ten minutes. And the cabin won’t get warm for about twenty. Standing there warming up the car is stupid, so you start driving. But after about a hundred meters (330 feet), you stop, because you can’t see a damn thing through the windshield. You try scraping the ice off with the wipers. Turns out the wipers are frozen solid. You get out of the car (more snow spills into the cabin), rip the wipers free, and then use your fingers to break chunks of ice off them so they can actually wipe. Now you need to scrape the layer of ice off the windshield. But there’s no scraper. Or it’s in the trunk and you can’t be bothered to look for it. So you start trying to peel the ice off with your fingernails. It works badly and feels awful. You open the car door again (more snow inside), grab some piece of paper, fold it eight times, and then try to use it like a scraper to clear the ice. It doesn’t work. You throw the paper away. Climb back into the car (more snow again). Crank the heater all the way up to defrost the windshield and wait for a clear strip to appear at the bottom. Wipers on full blast too, and you hunch over so you can see through that narrow clear strip at the bottom of the windshield and drive. And when you finally get to the parking lot, you still have to get out of the car, grab some stupid stick, and bang on the rocker panels and mud flaps to knock off those nasty black chunks of packed snow. Otherwise they’ll fall off on their own—but only once you’re already parked. And then they’ll just be lying there in your spot. No thanks. Let it be hot. I want global warming.
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