And then there was the night in Philadelphia that Porsche Guy decided that the hum of the air conditioner was “preventing” him from falling asleep, so he turned it off.
Now, think about this for just a minute: the temperature is something like 35 degrees Celsius at 10 pm, and it is also humid as hell. We are from the Wet Coast of Canada and are totally unused to this. I have a cooling shower after a long hot day of sightseeing, drop into bed, and promptly fall asleep. PG lays there, not sleeping, presumably because the aircon is making “some” noise. He decides to turn it off. To be fair, he then falls asleep.
I, on the other hand, wake up about six seconds afterward, gasping for air, wondering why my body is once again covered in perspiration. I stagger to the bathroom and gulp litres of water, not caring that it’s room temperature, then fall back into bed … to not sleep for the rest of the night except for fitful half-hours here and there. When he rolls over around 8 am and wishes me a cheery good morning, I rasp through my parched lips, “I am dying of heat!” His response is, “Okay. I’ll turn the air conditioner back on.”
Unfortunately, I am too exhausted and too drippy with sweat to slug him immediately and forcefully. But when my energy returns, let’s just say that I make it extremely clear that he is never, ever again to turn off the aircon at night. EVER.
(more to come – once I get the rest of the photos all sorted)