A nip in the air
My goodness, this has been one glorious summer, hasn't it?
The oppressive heat.
The relentless, pounding brutality of the sun.
The unbearable 12 billion percent humidity.
This summer, when I walk outside, I feel like Jewish Jell-o.
If there was such a thing as Jewish Jell-o.
But still, it's been a great summer, hasn't it?
While most people can't stand this brutally hot weather and will do anything and everything to stay out of it, hide from it or escape from it, I, on the other hand, cherish these dog days.
Well, it's not so much because of the heat, generally speaking. It's more that I love air conditioning.
Well, it's not so much that I love air conditioning, generally speaking. It's more that I love air conditioning for others.
Well, it's not so much that I love air conditioning for others, generally speaking. It's more that I love air conditioning for women.
Well, it's not so much that I love air conditioning for women, generally speaking. It's more that I love air conditioning for what it does to women's nipples.
My goodness, this has been one glorious summer, hasn't it?
The thing is, I always knew air conditioning was the greatest invention in the history of inventions.
But I've come to realize that beating the heat has nothing to do with why I love air conditioning.
I love air conditioning because of the interaction between the cold air of air conditioning and all those nipples.
Countless nipples. Tens of hundreds of nipples. A bazillion, thousand nipples.
And while I'm not a professional scientist, I have reason to believe that nipples like the air conditioning too, because every single time I see nipples in air conditioning, the nipples appear to be standing at attention, saluting the air conditioning, too.
At least, it looks that way to me.
Yes, the true beauty of summer isn't the trees, the flowers, or the sun glistening off the grass in the morning dew.
The true beauty of summertime is chilled women's nipples.
The best sound of summer isn't a single bluebird chirping on a branch, or the ocean waves crashing against the shore, or the joyous laughter of children running together in carefree bliss.
No, the best sound of summer is a woman walking through the hallway saying to no one in particular, "My God, it's freezing in here!"
I love that sound.
My office has been so cold, most women need a sweater.
I feel so badly for them, too. The poor women have to walk around with their nipples sticking out like hexhead bolts.
I suppose I could be nice and keep a sweater in my office to offer to women who are cold. But then again, that would be pretty much be the dumbest thing a guy could do.
That's why I don't keep a sweater in my office.
And while you would think that once you've seen one or two nipples, you've pretty much seen all you need to see in the area of nipples, I've come to realize that as a general rule of thumb, I never get tired of looking at nipples.
"Hey Sally, how's that project coming? Think we can have it out by the end of the day? That'd be fantastic. Hey, by the way, you're nipples are looking great! Whatever you're doing to them…keep it up!"
"Hey, Marge, I know you're a hard-working, dedicated employee, but I just wanted to give you some advice. I've recently read that it's safer to wear lighter-colored clothing in the summer than darker. Also, it's far easier to see your rock hard nipples in a white shirt than a black one. And by the way, you're doing a terrific job!"
"Why son, of course we can see Spiderman for the 11th time. It's a great movie. And I love doing things with you. That's called bonding time, son. Just wake Daddy up at the part where Spiderman's saving Kirstin Dunst in the rainy back alley and her shirt's all wet. I think it's about 53 minutes and 17 seconds into the movie or so."
Truthfully, I'm not the kind of person who normally stares at a woman's chest.
Frankly, I prefer to treat women with respect and integrity. And with a level of equality that acknowledges their importance and relevance as it relates to their level of acceptance in our culturally diverse society.
That's how I like to treat women.
Yet oddly, I never seem to feel guilty staring at their Tastee-Freeze nipples while they're talking to me at work.
WHAT THIS WOMAN SAID TO ME THE OTHER DAY:
"So anyway, Lane, if we can reconfigure this layout and get more product ID down here and increase the size of the logo by 15 percent, I think we'll be in pretty good shape on this ad."
WHAT I HEARD THIS WOMAN SAY TO ME THE OTHER DAY:
"So anyway, Lane, while you're looking at my nipples, if we can reconfigure my nipples in this layout and get more product ID down here near my nipples and increase the size of my nipples and of the logo by 15 percent, I think with my nipples we'll be in pretty good shape on this ad."
The good news about this summer:
I get to see all the nipples in my office.
The bad news about this summer:
I get to see all the nipples in my office.
Last week, I saw a pair of nipples in the hallway.
Which, on the surface, sounds like you should be saying to me, "You are one lucky dog!"
However, there was only one teeny-tiny problem with the chilled nipples I saw.
They were attached to someone named Jeff.
Jeff's white t-shirt was a little too tight. Tight enough to give his nipples a little sniff of the cold air. Tight enough for his nipples to go Attica on him and try to escape.
As much as I didn't want to, as much as I tried to stare at the floor...I looked at Jeff's nipples.
"Hey Lane," said Jeff.
"What's up?" I said.
Unfortunately, I knew the answer to the question before I asked it.
He left. The vision hasn't.
Other than that single, extremely gay isolated moment in my life, I've enjoyed looking at nipples this summer.
And while I've come to realize that a nipple is a nipple is a nipple, what truly gives a nipple it's justifiable worth is the material surrounding the nipple.
While I'm not a doctor, I believe that the technical term to describe the material surrounding a nipple is…"the rest of the woman."
I find that just because an ice-cold nipple is staring you in the face doesn't necessarily mean that the nipple is worth looking at.
I like to use this as a general rule of thumb:
If at any point in looking at a nipple you find yourself thinking, " I bet Sally Jesse Raphael's nipple looks like this," this isn't a nipple you should be looking at.
Having said that, I do understand that it is virtually impossible to ignore a set of Mr. Freeze's Frozen Treats.
Because no matter how hard you try not to look, the male eye simply has a natural instinct to look at nipples.
I've thought long and hard as to why this is so.
Why men can't look away from a nipple. What are the physiological dynamics that draw the sight lines of the male species toward the female breast?
The best reason I can come up with is this:
Because it's a nipple.
Looking at a pointy nipple is like taking a test next to a kid who's trying to hide his answers, but you manage to see them anyway.
Except instead of trying to see answers to get points on a test, you're trying to see nipples with points on breasts.
Which, when you come to think of it, kind of are the answers, aren't they?
I find it interesting to note that when women are aroused, there are no obvious physical signs other than her legs wrapped behind her head.
Yet, when women are cold, their nipples are clearly affected, which in turn puts men into their obvious physical state of arousal.
Which means that for women, the cold is cold. And for men, the cold is hot.
Thankfully, whizzers don't react to the cold in the same way nipples react to the cold, or the entire male population of the state of Minnesota would need baggy pants from November to April.
IF WHIZZERS WERE AFFECTED BY THE COLD THE SAME WAY NIPPLES ARE AFFECTED BY THE COLD.
DAVE FROM DULUTH:
Hey Sally, how's it going? Ooooh, baby. I can see that you're cold.
SALLY FROM DULUTH:
Hey Dave, how's it going? Ooooh, baby. I can see why you never get a second date.
There's an unwritten code among the guys in our office that if you got a nipple alert in the vicinity of your work area, you do anything in your power to keep the nipples in the area for as long as you can.
No one talks about it. No one's ever acknowledged the existence of the rule. But we're all really good it. Professionals, you might say.
ACT I, SCENE I
OPEN ON A CHILLY OFFICE SCENE. A COLD GIRL WITH ERECT NIPPLES (CGWEN) IS TALKING TO TWO GUYS LOOKING AT HER ERECT NIPPLES (GLAHEN).
CGWEN: All right, well, that's all I really needed to talk to you guys about on this project. See you later.
GLAHEN 1: Hey, before you go…have you given any thought to that other project for Johnson?
CGWEN: That project's not due for six months.
GLAHEN 2: Understood. But if we fully comprehend what's expected now, we can keep it in mind as we get deeper into developing this project. Because in the long run, there needs to be a synergy between the two.
CGWEN: Well, if you guys have time.
GLAHEN 1: Have a seat.
CGWEN: God, your office is so cold.
LATER , AS THE CONVERSATION COMES TO ITS INEVITABLE SAD, SAD CONCLUSION, SHE WALKS AWAY. THE TWO MEN MAKE NO EYE CONTACT AS SHE WALKS AWAY. AS GLAHEN 1 STARES AT HER ASS, HE LOOKS STRAIGHT AHEAD AND SPEAKS.
GLAHEN 1: God, I love air conditioning.
Earlier today, I looked at the calendar and realized that fall is right around the corner.
Extra layers of clothing.
College football cheerleaders.
Well, it's not all bad.
Soon, the air conditioning will be shut off until next year.
Goodbye, close friend. Stay well protected this winter.
Keep your filters fresh. Your fans clean. Your circuits dry.
I'll see you soon, old buddy. Before we know it, the snow will be gone. The leaves will have grown. And you'll be back, Mr. AC.
With any luck, global warming will kick in and we'll get some hot days in April. Because after a winter in hibernation, tens of thousands of nipples need a place to stretch.
Rest assured, trusted friend. I will spend all fall and winter hoping that next summer will be as fabulously hot and miserable as this one.
I will also spend all fall and winter hoping that Jeff finds a new job by then.