hot town, summer in the city

Another unbearably hot day.  I make plans with my friend Ellen to see Magic Mike, that I later try to cancel, after running one errand outside.  I tell her the truth:  I’m too hot to leave my apartment again.  As I am voicing my reason, I realize how ridiculous I sound and reverse my position, agreeing to go.

As much as I love New York, I would gladly leave it in July and August.  The only possible benefit is that the city empties out.  No lines at movies.  Less crowded restaurants.  Everything on sale and no one in stores.  And more available seats on the subway.

Everyone must have a summer house or know someone who does.  I feel like one of those people “looking half dead, walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head.”

Surprise.  We get to the theater and there’s a line.  Almost every seat is taken, and this is for a 5:40 movie on a Sunday when everyone should still be out of town.  Apparently all the remaining females have been rounded up to see this movie. So much for the few benefits of summer.