Saying it's hot here in Texas in the summer is a ridiculous understatement. There just aren't words to convey just how truly brimstone-like the weather is here in August. I got a rude awakening yesterday when I schlepped my be-suited, be-stockinged, be-heeled self a few blocks on foot to go to an interview in downtown Houston. Don't get me wrong - Houston is awesome. Museums, theater, restaurants, bars, shopping. It's all here. But I had no idea what I was in for when I parked in a garage a few blocks from the building where I would be interviewing. I haven't been downtown enough yet to understand how the addresses work on the streets. I walked one direction and it seemed like the addresses were going down. So I walked the other direction and seemed like the addresses started going up, but then they seemed to start going down again. I stopped a man who was rushing into a building (no doubt to escape the inferno-like heat of the Houston afternoon) and asked him which direction should I go for the address I was trying to find. He had no idea. He mumbled something about Main Street. Um. I didn't ask about Main Street. Perhaps he was doing some calculation in his head that I wasn't aware of and the only words he could access at the time were Main and Street. Or perhaps he'd been in the heat and sunshine too long and his brain had melted in his skull like a glob of pink goo. I could certainly relate to that. Perhaps Main Street was some kind of code and he wanted to see if I could figure out what he meant. Anywho, the extreme heat and relentless sun (I'm not complaining, just stating a fact!) were doing a number on my body. Especially my feet. I could feel my stockinged feet rubbing against my shoes and if it wasn't for the sweat my feet were producing, my shoes would've caught fire. Or my stockings might have melted. I knew I'd have blisters the size of quarters on my feet when I got home. I needed to find the address where I needed to be pronto before my hair (and clothes) caught fire. I finally walked far enough in the right direction and found the building I was looking for with about 10 minutes or so to spare. By the time I arrived for the interview, my clothes and face were soaking wet with perspiration. Was I going to make a great first impression or what? I pulled some tissues out of my purse and swabbed my face. I could've wrung at least a cup of water out of them. What do you say at a time like that when you are shaking hands and meeting potential employers for the first time and you look like you were just hit with a water balloon? Only thing you can. So THIS is what it's like in Houston in the summer. I'm sure not in Seattle anymore!! Ha-ha-ha. Sorry I look like I've just been dunked in a water tank. Could I have a glass of water, please? My tongue doesn't usually stick to the roof of my mouth like this but you know, it's about 1000 degrees outside and I walked a few blocks here. By the way, if you're ever in downtown Houston and you're walking across the street a bit too slow, don't be surprised if the delivery trucks (or anybody driving a trunk for that matter) nearly run you over and then curse at you for walking too slow. I guess it wouldn't have mattered to him if I told him I had blisters on my feet and that I was from Seattle. Nawwwww. Probably not. And a foot note to the story: I believe I got the job.
