after the scorching sun of Sicily, New York must've been a swell change of climate, but for someone who was born here, the 950 temperatures and 98% humidity thing is fairly intolerable.
the minute the thermometer reads above 75, i start to sweat. not the light and attractive glisten of the average man, mind you. i sweat like my hirsute and swarthy fore-fathers sweat: buckets upon buckets from every pore of my body. what's left of my hair sticks to my forehead like a woman in labor and my clothes start to stick to me in the most inconvenient and unattractive of ways. by the time i get to work (it usually takes 2 hours door-to-door), i look like i've worked an entire 8 hour day. the shirt i took special care to iron, winds up a wrinkled and sweat darkened rag. i've tried a large panorama of antiperspirants, to no avail; my atomic powered sweat-glands 
overtake even the most ardent of sticks, roll-ons, and aerosols. as you can imagine (and most of you reading this can attest) it's quite unpleasant to witness.
it always boggles my mind when i see people walking around the streets of manhattan looking like they've just stepped off a runway or have an air conditioned bubble surrounding them, while i stand there looking like Willie Lohman after a particularly horrible weekend. don't these people have sweat glands? are they androids? mannequins? sometimes i really despise this city.
"Sometimes I get bored riding down the beautiful streets of L.A. I know it sounds crazy, but I just want to go to New York and see people suffer. "~Donna Summer
2 comments:
Did you know that these days they can even Botox your sweat glands? :-)
don't think i haven't thought of it.
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