I open the door to the furnace that is my car and proceed to voluntarily sacrifice myself to its flames. Closing the door, the heat resonates the air, shortening my breaths. It feels like a pressure cooker in here. I need to get this A/C on NOW.

With expert precision, I carefully handle the seatbelt buckle, making sure not to touch the glowing metallic parts. ‘Click’ success. Turning the car on, I immediately fiddle with the A/C switches. I only have a few miles to travel, but there is no way, that in hell, I could drive without it. I glance at my car’s thermometer, gauging the temperature outside. 116 degrees, that’s 116 degrees outside. God knows what the temp is in here.

My tribulation continues as a force of steaming wind blows from the small vents on the dash, the oven just about preheated. Beads of sweat roll down my face, seasoning the meat to a perfect medium rare. My sweat quickly evaporates, the smell wafting around the tightly enclosed space, acting to entice any and all who might eventually dine at my expense. My body begins to go limp as I gasp for air, the heat beginning to seep and suck the life out of me, my breaths shortening to the point of concern. Then with a final bow and the curtain coming down I submit myself to the flames.

But then, just as the devil’s claws grasp my fragile frame, dragging another victim into everlasting fire, my salvation arises. A puff of cool air gilds my face, so serene and easily, I nearly cough as it enters my war beaten lungs. The air-conditioned air is like heavenly grace gently falling on a suffering sinner. Immediately I press my face against the holy site, cupping my hands around the small vent in order not to lose a single drop of blessed air. Born again am I, baptized in the glorious invention of A/C. Singing praises and hymns, I pull my car out of the driveway, my face still as close as possible to divine wind. I can now make it to work on time.