Heatwave
On New Year’s Eve it is 1 degree with a wind chill of something like 80 below. My wife and I went into the city for First Night. After being outside for about two minutes, we were Numb Knights. It was so cold it hurt. It was the second week of January before one of my balls dropped.
This past week as we celebrated the 4th of July, the temperature was 94 with a heat index of 104. The heat index is the summer version of wind chill.
So, out of the two times of year, which would you think was more suited for groups of people to walk around in fur costumes? Of course, the cold weather would make the most sense. Hell, I would have dressed up in a lion’s costume to stay warm on New Year’s Eve. But, that’s not the right answer.
For whatever reason, the furries have their annual convention every year during the hottest days of summer. I don’t know what makes it better to be sweating profusely while you’re pretending to be a furry animal. Of course, I also don’t understand why you would have a litter box in a hotel room with a perfectly good toilet. I guess I’m kind of a prude.
These people do this by choice. It’s not a job, like the Pirate Parrot. Nobody was warmer than that guy during those cold, snowy nights in April, but he’s paying for it now. Oh, and what about Kenny the Kangaroo over at Kennywood Park? He’s sweating so much he probably has pouch rot.
At least the Parrot and Kenny are treated like celebrities. What if you’re job required you wearing a hot costume without the fame and fortune?
I was driving through northern Virginia a few years ago. It was a hot muggy summer day. One of those southern, 100 percent humidity days. As I drove past a strip mall, something caught my eye. There was somebody dressed like a giant slice of pizza, standing there waving.
Who made the decision that this would be good for business? Did people not know what you were selling, even though it said PIZZA in big letters across the top of the building?
That’s a job that requires no training. There’s not even a six week course on how to be a slice of pizza. You don’t even need any acting training. It’s not like you have to “Be the pizza.” Just put on the vinyl suit, sweat like a pig and wave.
This has to be one of the worst jobs you can get. Would you have a sense of pride being pizza? Let’s say you go to a party with your spouse with people they work with. At some point, the other spouses may start asking about what they do for a living.
“I’m a lawyer.”
“I work in marketing.”
“I’m a slice of pizza.”
When children see the Pirate Parrot or Kenny the Kangaroo, their faces light up. I can’t see that happening with the slice of pizza.
“Mommy, I’m afraid of the pizza!”
“The pizza won’t hurt you.”
“Mommy, the pizza is coming after me!”
You’re probably wondering how I got from the furries convention to a giant slice of pizza. I was just comparing hot, uncomfortable costumes. Who knows, maybe I’ll start a new group that will want to have a convention. You could have the slice of pizza, the PNC Pierogi’s, maybe find a guy that enjoys dressing up like a Ham Sandwich and it would be the foodie’s convention.
Just have it a different week than the furrie’s. Having both at the same time could get ugly.
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