Grease becomes you

Posted on February 5, 2008

9


So I’ve been trying not to complain about the bitter winter slamming into Cairo in the last week for fear of inducing fits of apoplectic rage and disgust in less fortunate friends and readers. Just yesterday Bird-fearing D was telling me how it was -45 degrees Celsius in Calgary and her car wouldn’t start as a result and she couldn’t get to work. And it really cannot be compared to previously experienced levels of torture – but the fact remains that we are ill–equipped to handle this unaccustomed cold, since it is indisputably colder indoors than outdoors, no one has proper central heating and even if the temperature doesn’t read that low, the humidity makes it particularly intense (all the Americans and Canadians I know have agreed that the cold here does indeed “get into your bones” just like your grandma says).

The upshot is that pretty much everyone is avoiding the need to remove their clothing, resulting in married friends of mine exclaiming fervently their intention to postpone all sex until springtime. You get into your frozen tomb of a bed and then lie perfectly still for an hour dreading lest your foot move a centimeter, shooting an arctic breeze along your entire body. Showering is cause for deep thought, plotting and sometimes discussion. I nearly had a cardiac arrest last week when my foot touched the bathroom floor. The day before I had had the following conversation with a friend we’ll call New Age Ned (I’ll think of some better name – or maybe you can! Crystal Ken?).

NAN: Why are you looking pretty today?

Me: I don’t know. It could be that I haven’t showered in two days.

NAN: Yeah, I like that kinky shit. (blows kiss)

Me: (closes door)

Seeing someone for eight hours a day, five days a week, can erode a person’s boundaries, I’ve found.

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Posted in: friends