It's morning, and the trailer is cold, cold, cold. Fortunately, we have a thermostat. I get there early to turn it on, but no one appreciates my efforts.
Bob, sitting in his $400 North Face jacket, supplemented by a heavy sweatshirt, complains it's too hot. His neighbor, Maria, wearing an arctic parka, a heavy wool sweater, and a long scarf (she's removed her floppy-eared woolen hat in deference to school rules), concurs. "Ay, meester, turn the heat down."
They're shocked when I tell them to take their jackets off, and they sit there as though I'd just instructed them to eat ten pounds of dirt. I don't have my coat on, and it's still a little cold in there. I stand my ground and damn the consequences.
On principle, they refuse to take off their jackets, and appear sullen and disappointed for much of the period, particularly mid-class, when it starts to get really warm. Perhaps there's no point in having a $400 coat if people don't see you wearing it every waking moment of your life.
With changing weather on the horizon, though, they may soon have little choice.
Posts
