My husband’s a funny guy. He’s full-blooded Cuban, but you’d never suspect this. He’s from Florida, and he mentions this every chance he gets — so often, we’ve made a drinking game out of it, called “Wait, where are you from?” I’m from the North. I lived in a completely landlocked state my whole life, so there are some interesting difference between us.
One of the those differences is tolerance for uneven temperatures. Where he grew up, it was hot and humid. Where I grew up, it wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong, we had warm seasons that required air conditioning, but they could never compete with Florida’s intense heat. So, my partner is essentially unaffected by hot, muggy afternoons. He laughs at me when I complain, and bump the air conditioning up. He’s so used to this awful air quality that he isn’t even phased when it’s well over 100 outside!
We have constant battles over the thermostat. If I turn the temperature down, he turns it back up! He tells me that I have no idea what it’s like to live in a hot place, however I do know what it’s like to be frustrated by a hot man!