Trolley summer has started.
Today was the first day of the summer where I remembered how hot it gets in a trolley all summer long. And it's only going to get hotter over the next few days. Tomorrow I'm bringing a cooler. And by that I mean that William H. Macy is going to be sitting next to me all day seeing to it that I don't get lucky.
For some reason the engines are right there up front with the driver. Isn't there anyway that they could've had the engine installed somewhere outside the vehicle on a rolling scaffolding where trained monkeys would spend all day dousing it with ice water?
Better yet, get me those ice water spraying primates. They'll make much more exciting passengers for me. They may not tip as well as the humans but, hey, what was I saving all my tip money for anyway? Monkeys. Lots of ice water shooting monkeys.
Rhesus.
Because of the viruses they tend to carry with them.
Next stop Marshall Fields, State Street!
Everyone, everything, melting away. My thoughts are the only thing that's real but...wait-- Where am I? Am I in space? Yes! Yes! I finally did it. I drove the trolley just the right way so that I could get it to space. Sure is cool in space. The air is clean. Diluted but clean. And one molecule of clean air is worth a bucket of diesel exhaust. Hey what's that over there? The Sun! Yay! I found it! There it is--no wait. It's not the sun! It's a trolley engine! The big trolley engine in the sky.
"Excuse me sir. Wake up from your heat coma. The light is green."
It's hot.
For some reason the engines are right there up front with the driver. Isn't there anyway that they could've had the engine installed somewhere outside the vehicle on a rolling scaffolding where trained monkeys would spend all day dousing it with ice water?
Better yet, get me those ice water spraying primates. They'll make much more exciting passengers for me. They may not tip as well as the humans but, hey, what was I saving all my tip money for anyway? Monkeys. Lots of ice water shooting monkeys.
Rhesus.
Because of the viruses they tend to carry with them.
Next stop Marshall Fields, State Street!
Everyone, everything, melting away. My thoughts are the only thing that's real but...wait-- Where am I? Am I in space? Yes! Yes! I finally did it. I drove the trolley just the right way so that I could get it to space. Sure is cool in space. The air is clean. Diluted but clean. And one molecule of clean air is worth a bucket of diesel exhaust. Hey what's that over there? The Sun! Yay! I found it! There it is--no wait. It's not the sun! It's a trolley engine! The big trolley engine in the sky.
"Excuse me sir. Wake up from your heat coma. The light is green."
It's hot.
posted by Churchill at 7:50 PM
2 Comments:
I've always liked those monkeys. The problem is, in this heat, their peanut butter cups melt.
Monkeys! I always had some sort of Rube Goldberg fan and ice water cascade contraption in mind. That and a window that really pulls in a breeze. Or an engine cover that insulates the cabin from the heat in the summer but not the winter. Or air conditioning. But monkeys! The simplicity! The elegance! The little piles of hot sh*t they'll throw at whiners at the Shedd at 5 minutes after the end of service on the Green Route.
Monkees, here we come, Trolleying down the street, get the funniest looks from ...
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