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The Triple-Digit Treatment
Thursday, August 7, 2008 at 04:44PM 
"It's not the heat ... it's the stupidity."
Oh my soul. It is so hot in South Carolina. Why exactly do I live in South Carolina? Anyone? Oh yeah ... my house is here. And my family and my dog and my job. And my pillow. Dulled by the heat, I forgot all that for a mo. Soggy apologies.
Yesterday I was invited to report two depositions held at the Kershaw County Courthouse in small but adequately picturesque Camden, South Carolina. I am happy to relate that I was not required to get up early. I hate getting up early. I hate it with the heat of fifteen hundred backyard barbecue grills. No ... I woke up slowly and lolled in bed with my first cup of coffee for thirty blissful minutes before I was obliged to start getting ready.
I stayed cool during my shower, getting dressed, pouring my second cup of coffee, and applying cosmetics to my face ... although I wouldn't have been cool for that last part except for the small personal fan blowing directly on my face. And yes, I live in a rigorously air-conditioned house.
So then it was time to style my hair. The moment of truth. See, I have a lot of hair. I may have too much hair. Why do I have so much hair? Oh yeah ... I am a girl and consequently I do not wear my hair in a boy style. I wear my hair nearly to my shoulders. I aspire to glamour. Unfortunately (at least when it is time to "do" my hair) my tresses are thick and take a long time to dry. This means that in order to finish preparing to go somewhere, after I have taken great pains with my makeup and clothing, I am required to aim a gun-like appliance at my head and blast it with HOT air.
She eagerly rummaged through my suitcase-sized Kate Spade for so long I began to wonder if she was searching for something specific ... perhaps a stray mint julep?
By the time it's over, half the makeup I previously applied to my face has been transferred to three damp tissues that lie disconsolately in the wicker wastebasket beside the vanity. I am vain about my hair so I fiddle and fuss and fume until I have come perilously close to melting into a damp spot on the floor beside the wicker wastebasket.
(I can hear TG now, home from work several hours later: "Erica, where is your mother?" Erica dolefully points to the still-damp spot on the tile in the bathroom where I stand to arrange my hair. "There, Dad," she says. "What's left of her. She must've melted from the blow dryer." It was bound to happen sooner or later.)
((Do not allow TG to remarry. If he tries, force him to lie down until the impulse goes away.))
(((I do hope they organize a nice memorial service and conceal from my grandchildren how neurotic I was. I can hear them now, years in the future: "We never actually knew our maternal grandmother. At family reunions it's whispered that she was weird. She melted during the triple-digit heatwave of August 2008, you know.")))
((((Please y'all, show them a few nice pictures of me taken before I unexpectedly and untimely desolidified.))))
Rolling into Camden a few minutes behind schedule, I found the sleepy burg wilting beneath the zeal of a mid-morning sun that had already cranked it up to 99 Fahrenheit. At the first traffic light I got stopped by a policeman (no, not that way ... had you going, didn't I, a few steps down the dark corridors of schadenfreude* ...) who was escorting a funeral.
(I wonder if the dearly departed died of melting? I think they keep these statistics out of the local news.)
I found a parking space in a gritty unpaved lot across the street from the Kershaw County Courthouse, an edifice so ugly it causes one to wonder who was in such a bad mood that they approved the plans. Justice is served hot by default but sans benefit of moonlight and magnolias at that place, y'all. Even a teetotaler like me half-wished for a mint julep just for courage to approach the steps ... and as bad as it is on the outside, it's even worse on the inside. They need a decorator. And a janitor, apparently. Horrors.
But a girl's gotta do ... so I dug deep and mustered the wherewithal to enter, whereupon I was "greeted" by a gruff female with a boy hairstyle. She failed to comment on how nice my hair looked. Probably jealous. She eagerly rummaged through my suitcase-sized Kate Spade for so long I began to wonder if she was searching for something specific ... perhaps a stray mint julep? She even unzipped my cosmetic bag and rifled its contents. She inspected my compact and confiscated my comb. Yes! My comb! The one I use to fluff my hair! Dirty brickabrackalomer ... I thought.
At long last, after earning a much-needed brownie point by openly admiring the diminutive one-armed Captain Jack Sparrow doll (his missing arm is in the bottom of my purse but I can't seem to reattach it) that goes with me everywhere, and wondering aloud why I pack a rubber-banded raft of homemade vocabulary flashcards (because they make me smart), La Official Greeter allowed me to pass through the security portal where as usual I set off a faint buzz. She wanded me suspiciously before announcing that I was good to go.
I have gained admittance to the boarding areas of major airports with less attention to the minutiae of my person and belongings.
Excuse me while I pull over and park here for a mo. I'm no anarchist (much too lazy), but does anyone besides me think it's funny that the security folks at courthouses NEVER ask me to open the fifty-pound equipment suitcase that purrs along behind me on its little wheels? They take for granted I do not carry an extra comb in there ... not to mention a can of hairspray with which I could potentially blind a judge, or at least temporarily lacquer him to his bench. And then there's my pirate sword ...
Moving on. The lone dinky elevator in this architectural train wreck -- a true affront to aesthetically discriminating taxpayers such as yours truly -- didn't work (imagine!) so I had to clomp up the stairs dragging that bag. I fear I sounded like (and resembled) Quasimodo ascending the bell tower with a reluctant Esmeralda in tow. While attempting to locate the petit jury room I encountered a rude bureaucrat (imagine!), but that's a subject for another day.
A few hours later I was treated to lunch by one of the lawyers, a longtime personal friend. We were accompanied by the plaintiff (my lawyer friend's client) and a law clerk who was along for the ride. My lawyer friend, a true Southern Gentleman of the sort who might once have occupied the jasmine-scented verandah of an antebellum plantation while quaffing a mint julep and whistling Dixie, would I am sure have brought an air-conditioned chariot around to the curb if the trek to the sandwich shop were longer than two blocks ... but alas we walked.
When the thermometer has climbed to 102 and the sun is beating down like it won't have many more chances to unceremoniously fricassee planet Earth, and you are wearing a semi-dressy outfit with requisite foundation garments and high heels and have too much hair on your head and your face is dripping off, those two blocks could be the stunt double for an Olympic track and field heat (pun intended).
But we made it and soon enough I was lustily consuming my first meal of the day: a chicken salad sandwich keeping charming company with a small bag of Lay's classic potato chips and a thoughtfully pre-chilled pickle spear. Washed down with hallelujah-cold Diet Coke. Then later I had a chocolate-chip cookie the size of a jumbo fried egg allowed to roam free in a too-large skillet. Plus another Diet Coke (this one caffeine-free) ... and according to my scale at home I still managed to lose two pounds yesterday.
I think those two pounds of me are yet on the streets of Camden in the form of liquid ... uhm, glow. We southern girls really do glow. Yeah. Believe me ... we are hot. All compliments of the triple-digit treatment.
* Enjoyment gained from the misfortune of someone else.
Reader Comments (19)
Ohhhh the things I have to look forward to...at least I got a nice briefing in Oklahoma about the heat-filled ways of states further south than my own!
But we didn't so much have all that humidity....
Joy.
I feel your pain sister....was in NC last weekend and thought I would die! Mercy, way too hot for a nice Northern girl like myself. However do you stand the summers down there?? (guess same way I stand blizzards and snow). Mint juleps eh? Never had one but it's on my list of drinks to try :-)
Oh dear, I feel sticky just reading all this.
The very reason I have short hair is that I hated blow drying so much. My hair is very porous and takes forever to dry. (When I was in high school, I had waist-length hair. I would wash it at night, and when I went to bed an hour or so later, it would still be wet. I'd braid it and coil it up behind my head so it didn't tangle, and when I woke up in the morning, it would still be wet.)
I hope your heat breaks soon.
@ Angi ... yeah girl, if you move here for school you'll get an education in hot weather and no mistake. I will say though, the meekness of our "winters" more than makes up for the ferocity of our summers. And if it gets too hot to handle, you can come swimming at my place! YAY!
@ Elaine ... we stand it by staying indoors (or in the pool) as much as possible! It's going outside that poses a problem ... especially when it's so hot in your car, you can hardly buckle your seatbelt or touch the steering wheel!
@ Ruth ... and you look so cute in short hair, Ruth, but I don't. I have to have some length. It's no problem on days when I am working at home; I just pull it back into a ponytail. But that blow dryer is an instrument of torture in August ... happily we are expecting a break in these temps, starting tomorrow!
Your state sure is hot! Thank goodness for water! I remember a plantation tour I took last year on my way up from Edisto. I think it was the hottest I've ever been. It feels like a cool front came through with the storm tonight. Will tomorrow be better?
Well, here we are in England complaining about the lack of decent summer weather! I would NOT like 105F plus humidity. You do have humidity, don't you? Yes, I thought so. You can keep it. LOL!
Most amusing write up, but it sounds as if it was far from amusing in fact. But hey, you had your one-armed Captain Jack! I too find that these little things help to 'grease the wheels'. I never travel without at least two Johnny Depp keyfobs on the outside of my bags, plus my lucky flying shirt which is printed with a picture of That Guy. I expect that would go down like a lead balloon at the courthouse, but I guess you could wear pirate earrings?
@ Cheryl ... indeed I think tomorrow (today) is already better! A high of 91 predicted, with that pattern holding at least through the week. What a relief!
@ Jay ... yeah girl, we do know humidity ... or stupidity as I prefer to call it! Pirate earrings?!? Not exactly my style but I DO have a pirate keyfob AND a beeeeeyooooteeeful button of That Guy that I carry in my equipment case ... I look at it while I work! He's so purty ...
Yes, I am always whingeing about the lack of sunshine here in the UK but then you can have too much of a good thing as you have just described...
I lived in Kuwait for 3 years. The summers used to sizzle, up to 47 degrees celsius (117 degrees farenheit) was the hottest I experienced but it was a very dry heat so seemed more bearable I think. I used to come home to the UK for the hottest summer months.
Humidity is the bane of my hairstyling life too, I feel your pain!
@ Diane ... tell you what girl, I would never make it in a place like Kuwait. I have a hard time in places like Louisiana and Texas ... two of the hottest places I've ever been. But there again, it's that blasted humidity ...
These security searches are a joke, aren't they?
I admire your stamina - blow drying, makeup applying, dressing, driving, security, working, dining - all in the heat! We have days in the 3 digits in Southern Cal, but at least without the indignity of the humidity! I don't know how you do it!
Keli, I think it all comes under the heading of, you do what you have to do! No other choice ... but happily, our highs have been 10 degrees lower the last few days! Humidity's gone down too. Makes all the difference in the world.
Hi Jenny! I totally understand your pain with the triple digit plus humidity! Just like everything else in Texas... our humidity is "bigger" too! Several years ago, I used to blow dry my hair, too. You see, it's naturally curly and I wanted straight hair. But it was all in vain, because as soon as I stepped outside... you guessed it... instant curl! If I could find buyers for this stuff, I'd be a rich lady, because I have enough for me, you, your family and your family's family! So, after many (many!) years of frustration, I decided to wave the white flag and let my hair be "all it wanted to be". So, here I sit, curly as Shirley Temple... but at least, my hair is happy. I, on the other hand, will still sweat bullets upon any exertion whatsoever, but the hair, hey, it looks the same as when I left the house. Se la vie....
Darla, believe it or not I have learned a thing or two about beating my hair into submission ... problem is, I melt down when I have to do it! But soon the worst will be over, weather-wise.
I daresay the hottest I have ever been -- with the possible exception of trips to New Orleans in summer -- has been in the State of Texas. Years ago I went to Dallas, and then last year to San Antonio, and both times I like to died. We have it easy here in comparison, I think!
Oh, that boy-haircut-lady was obviously jealous of your hair, or why would she steal your comb?
I love the way you describe food. I'm hungry for chicken salad and a giant cookie.
goes to sit in front of fan
Oh, wow, I so empathize with you! South Florida - that's my empathy credential. Our heat will break in - oh,maybe February! I long ago gave up on panty hose and hair styles! But at least you had Captain Sparrow to build a bridge with the guard lady. I know what you mean about the security checks - I practically caused a national incident trying to get on a plane in NM with a key chain and (gasp) three souvenir arrow heads, while my sister with a large wooden cane that she just slung over her arm, was waved right through!
You went through all that and had strength left to write a story about it? You have super hero qualities, madame. Super. Hero.
Love this word combination: "hallelujah-cold Diet Coke."
@ JD ... for sure re: the jealousy! What else could it BE? LOLOLOLOL! Girl that chicken salad sandwich did NOT disappoint ... I think I'm going to write a book about food now.
@ rosezilla ... arrowheads? How daring! Those security checks just make no sense to me. It is all so random! Panty hose? What are they? LOLOL! We lived in Ft. Lauderdale for several years when I was growing up so I know what you mean about the heat there. But at least you have the beach close by!
@ P.L. ... girl, you are the super hero of storytelling ... not me! But thank you kindly, and yes, once I get cooled down by a hallelujah-cold Diet Coke I am good to go!
Would you PUHLEEZE send some of that heat here. It's in the upper 60's and from the end of July and the month of August so far it's been cool like Fall. We are also getting rain EVERY day. So send some southern weather up here will ya?
LL, you know I would if I could, girl! Actually it has cooled down considerably here and there has been a break in the humidity as well. I love the kind of weather you are describing ... LOVE IT ... wanna trade places for a week or two? LOLOLOL!