’Humidity and Cake’
The other day I was sitting at my desk in my little office room on the second floor of my house, and feeling sort of hungry, so I grabbed my cake knife and cut myself a nice thick slice of the air.
It has been pretty humid lately.
The previous week, the humidity was over 100 percent, which is to say, it rained a lot. That’s actually not nearly as bad as middling humidity. No humidity is great, of course. Then as humidity rises, it gets worse and worse, until finally at 100 percent humidity it rains and everything is fine again. This is exactly the opposite of how cake works. No cake is very bad, and then as amount of cake rises, it gets better and better, until finally when you have eaten too much cake it rains and everything is terrible.
Since we have now established that cake is the opposite of humidity, it makes sense that this past week I had a distinct lack of cake, and a surplus of humidity. I’m not trying to blame the humidity for my lack of cake, although it is possibly related. There were at least two parties I didn’t manage to attend, one of which was simply due to a lack of transportation. I have found that people are much more excited about offering rides when it is less humid.
This makes perfect sense. In winter, passengers add warmth to the car in the form of body heat, and can also be set on fire in the case of an emergency. In humid weather, the last thing you want in your car is another sweat-covered individual. I suppose I could try not being covered in sweat, but apparently even after a mid-afternoon shower, an evening of vigorous breathing and typing was enough for this weather to cover me in yuck.
The other party I wanted to join was local, and so it was easy for me to attend on foot. Where by "easy" I mean "left me panting after walking up a hill and swimming through patches of thick air." When I finally showed up at the party, there was no sign of activity, and I knocked on the door for a minute straight before giving up. I was a little disappointed, but it turned out that the main reason they did not answer my knocks at the door was that it was, technically speaking, the wrong house.
Still, I eventually found the correct house and knocked at that door as well. But nobody could hear me because they were on a different floor, and it was too humid to knock really loudly or to go down flights of stairs just to open a door. Another friend of mine spent the weekend making a delicious looking cake. I know this because she kept posting pictures of it on Facebook every 10 minutes, which would have been a lot more useful if we had finally developed Willy Wonka technology to let me eat some through the screen. I’m sure it tasted sweet when she ate it, but through the Internet, the only thing I could taste was bitter.
So that’s three cakes I didn’t eat this past weekend. But thanks for reading this column, because that makes it better. After all, the best way to deal with humidity is fans.
Seth Brown is a humor writer, the author of "From God To Verse," and would not turn down some cake. His work appears weekly in the North Adams Transcript, and weakly on RisingPun.com.
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