Beginnings: how we bond

As Daniel and I climbed the steps to our stuffy third story apartment last night, we were a little apprehensive.  For the past week it has been so hot that we have gone so far as to take our mattress off its frame and plop it on the living room floor in front of our standing air conditioner (which is more like a strong fan).  Even with all our windows open, our air conditioner, and a fan constantly blowing, we have had trouble sleeping some nights.  As we reach the top of the stairs, however, we are relieved to find the apartment is actually quite pleasant.  Tired from a day full of sweating, we collapse into bed . . . right as the power goes out.

“Oh no!”  We think as the lights go out. 

“Oh.  No.” We think as we hear the humming of the fans and air conditioning gradually stop.  

Within one minute, our little apartment goes from quite pleasant to absolutely insufferable.

We lie absolutely still, focus on our breathing, and try not to panic.  I keep telling myself the power will come back on in just minutes.  They know.  They’re coming to save us.

We lay there and I begin to sweat profusely.  From just laying.  OK, this isn’t working.  We need to find another way.  


So we go downstairs in search of cooler air.  It's maybe half a degree cooler, but it’s definitely worth it so we take to the couches and try again to find sleep. 

Minutes later, out of the darkness we hear footsteps coming down the stairs and Cory’s voice, “Man, I couldn’t do it, man,” as he walks in to the living room and sits down with us.  Sleeping in heat like this is just not a possibility—no matter how tired we were.


Moments later, we hear more footsteps as Matthieu and Charlie join the crowd . . . and our desperation.

We sit in the darkness and think of ways we might be able to evade the oppressive heat:

“We could sleep outside,” I suggest.

“What if we all chipped in for a tank of gas and slept in the car with the AC on all night?” Cory proposes.

“I’d like to sleep at Eat N’ Park and eat ice cream all night,” Matthieu dreams.

“Dude, we could run 20 extension cords to our place from the house across the way that does have power,” Daniel plans.

“We have a free night at a Marriott, what if we all got a hotel room?” I ask.  


There’s silence as everyone thinks.  Are we really that desperate?  I think we might be . . . No.  Come on.  We’re tougher than that.  There has to be another way.

"What if we just went to a movie theater and just bought tickets for the longest movie?”  Cory asks.  "At least then we'd have a guaranteed 2 1/2 hours of sleep." 

“I think I might throw 45 freeze pops in bed with me and see how that goes.”  Matthieu says.

There’s silence again while we think of our other options.  There’s nothing but darkness and heat.  Matthieu begins forlornly plucking on his guitar and whistling a tune.  Cory joins in harmony.  (They’re practicing for our house whistling band we're planning to take on tour – even though neither Daniel nor I can whistle)

Then Cory asks, “Dude, if you had to choose one house to just show up at right now asking for a place to crash, what house would it be?”

The question evokes images of all our friends sleeping in their ice cold, air conditioned houses.  The thought is like torture.  So many friends and family living in such luxury and us here in this bitter oppression.  I’m sure they wouldn’t mind all of us showing up at their doorstep.  That’s what friends are for, right?  It’s only like 2 AM.  They’re probably not even in bed yet. 

Whatever.  They don’t even know what we’ve been through.

As the night drags on we begin to lose hope.  Lose hope in rescue and lose hope in our ability to find a way out.  And then we accept our fate.  We can't win and we're too hot to fight it anymore anyway.

Eventually I fell asleep.  Around 5 AM I open my eyes and see Daniel standing on his mattress pad pumping his fists wildly in the air.  It takes me a minute to realize, but THE POWER IS BACK ON!  I raise my hands in victory. 

We triumphantly climb the stairs back to our apartment and we've been sleeping happily ever after.  But we'll never be the same.