Yesterday morning I left for work and wouldn’t you know it, it was a little humid outside. According to my hygrometer (which I carry with me at all times), the relative humidity was about 247%. This meant that I was walking in a level of dampness roughly equivalent to that of an Olympic swimming pool.
Needless to say, I almost drowned on my way to my car. Good thing I was wearing swimmies along with my suit.
Humidity is like the evil stepchild of the weather report. No one likes humidity. You never hear someone say, “It’s 91° outside…but at least it’s a DAMP heat.” Now I know what some of you are saying: “Well, Dave, *mold* likes humidity.” To which I respond, “Oh yeah? Well, no one likes mold.”
Debate Team captain right here.
One particularly humid day, I found myself hopelessly stuck to our padded toilet bowl seat. This is because humidity has strange and magical adhesive properties. But don’t worry, I eventually was able to leave the bathroom. Although I did have to have the back of my pants let out to accommodate the ring.
Today, the weatherman stated that the humidity would be approaching 100%. In layman’s terms, this means that there is a 100% chance that I will be complaining about the humidity. Don’t forget the widely scattered whining, either. That always seems to go hand-in-hand with the humidity. Just ask any meteorologist.
Some people buy de-humidifiers to combat the humidity. These machines somehow suck the moisture right out of the air. I imagine one would have to be careful with these devices, making sure that you don’t point them at anybody— lest you reduce them to dust. You’d think that such a warning would be clearly printed on the box, but alas no. I wonder just how many de-humidifier deaths go unreported each year.
Smells like a government cover-up to me. Or perhaps that’s just the mold.