Air Conditioning Whore

I don't own an air conditioner and I'm not really sure why. When I moved here I think Charlotte and I just figured we couldn't afford the machine itself and everyone always told us it cost so much in Con Ed bills. I also don't really remember feeling horribly hot those first couple of years in New York. Well, once. The day we moved from our first apartment to our second. One fourth floor walk up to another in late June/early July. It wasn't pretty and it took forever, even with some gracious friends helping. By the time we were done it was crazy late, crazy hot and the apartment was unlivable. So we went to Charlotte's boyfriend's place and relaxed in cool, air conditioned comfort.

After that I moved to Chelsea and had a shoebox with one window. Best bath tub I've ever had in New York, but it was small, had no cross-breeze and was SO HOT in the Summer. The one window was huge though, and I had a hard time finding an air conditioner that might fit in it. Plus, I feared the "Huge Electricity Bill" so many friends spoke of. So, I never got AC there either.

Then, Daddy and I moved in together and he said we were NOT living without AC. I was game. He'd probably buy the machine and then would split the "Huge Electricity Bill" with me. But our apartment had bars on them to prevent a child from falling out the window. And it took us MONTHS to get the super to remove them on one even window. I'm not quite sure why we didn't break down and attack the bars with a saw ourselves, but by the time we could put a machine in the window, it was Fall. The next Summer we figured we'd survived one NYC Summer without AC and could do it again. We're pretty but not too bright. Also, we lived in a huge, high-ceilinged loft and finding one machine that could reasonably cool that apartment down wasn't going to be easy. Or cheap.

Then, I moved to my first Brooklyn apartment. And I realized that the "Huge Electricity Bill" wasn't all that Huge and was certainly worth paying to keep cool. But I didn't have bars or anything on my front windows (the bedroom windows - where I would want the AC). They faced the street and I was on the first floor. And I worried that it would be so easy to pop out my AC and rob me blind sometime when I was at work. It really makes no sense, but there you go. Also, I'd gone so long without one it seemed strange to break down and finally get an air conditioner at that point. I think I started to believe I was some kind of Heat Surviving Badass instead of the more honest Moronic Heat Stroke Victim. "I survived Louisiana summers with mad crazy heat and humidity! New York has NOTHING I can't handle." Of course, I had AC in Louisiana.

Then I moved into my current apartment. It's basement level, but the kitchen window has the bars curved out far enough to fit an air conditioner back there. So there really isn't any big reason to not have one. I fuss about how if I plug up that window with an air conditioner I won't be able to get a cross breeze on days I don't want AC. And I'll need a big machine as I don't have doors in my apartment and will need something that can cool the whole place, not one room. Also, purchasing and lugging a huge machine to my apartment will be a pain. But really. I think I'm just in the habit of tossing and turning and whining about how hot I am. Because I am that silly.

Stop reading, Daddy.

I need to just buy one and put it in and pipe down. Because the lack of sleep is killing me. And yesterday I actually pondered whoring myself out just to sleep in air conditioned comfort. And the reason I didn't wasn't because it seemed wrong to exchange sex for a night's sleep with AC but because my potential johns/friends/whatever were not conveniently located. Going home and getting a change of clothes and then going there in this heat seemed annoying. Yeah. Need to go get a machine. Maybe Sunday.