Smell the Burning Flesh!

I've reached that age where my body has unexpected and uncontrollable temperature fluctuations for no reason whatsoever. And at any time. No rhyme or reason for it. And some body parts have different temperatures than others. For instance, my face and neck will heat up when my fingers and toes are chilly.

So it was not that unusual this weekend, while riding in my friend Cordelaine's new car, for me to be freezing cold. Really, very, very cold. I asked everyone else in the car if they were cold, and most of them were just room temperature. Cordelaine fussed with the temperature settings for half a moment and then got distracted driving.

When suddenly my butt started to get warm. And warmer. And WARMER until I thought my ass was on fire and I was shifting around in the car seat feeling like the polyester blend pants I had on were going to melt and extrude themselves liquidly through tubes and be formed into something recycled like a park bench, while my charred thighs and buttocks would be mistaken for pork barbecue, hot and sizzly from the smoker. If I walked down the street, people passing by would say, "Hey, I'm in the mood for some ribs!" followed by "Why is that woman's ass on fire and she's not wearing any pants?"

Since I had just asked everybody if they were cold it seemed kind of silly to suddenly ask them if they were hot, so I shifted around from buttock to buttock in ever-increasing hot discomfort for quite a while until I finally had to say something.

"Gee, Cordelaine, my bottom feels really hot!"

"Gee, Miss Pinks!" she replied, "That's because your electronic seat warmer is set on HIGH."

And I had to put up with bun warmer jokes for the rest of the day.