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Revenge of the Swamp Ass

I live in Phoenix, Arizona.  It is, literally, one of the hottest places on Earth.  However, since I am a native (second generation, thank you very much), I have Phoenix in the blood, and will most likely live here for the rest of my life (or at least until I can afford to move somewhere cooler without any snow).

Living in Phoenix, you get to experience some things that most people don’t.  There is the phenomenon of the liquid-state of asphalt- which has been known to happen when the temperature gets to be about 120 degrees.  Of course, there was that one time the airport was shut down due to excessive heat- a first in the airline world.  And there is the all-time favorite of frying an egg on the sidewalk- which I have done several times.  I do not suggest eating, though- tastes like dirt.

My least favorite heat-related experience has to be the one known as revenge of the swamp ass.  Any one who has lived in a part of the world where there is heat combined with humidity has experienced swamp ass.  This is when your ass and upper thighs sweat, causing your pants to get soaked. When you stand up, it looks like you pissed yourself.  But no, this is just the consequence of swamp ass.

There are some things that have come to be known as causes for swamp ass.

One of them is having leather seats in your car.  I understand that most people see this as a luxury, and pay lots of money to have this upgrade in their car.  However, being a Zonie, I see leather seats as a guarantee than I will be looking like I need junior depends for the rest of the day.

My husband, who I love dearly, has leather seats in his car.  Since he is not a native, I can forgive him this dumbass mistake in car purchasing.  However, do not ask me to drive his car from May to September.  That is when the heat is the worst, and swamp ass is most evident.

What kind of pants you wear can also determine the likeliness of swamp ass.  In Phoenix, the temperatures can soar over 110 in midday, and have been known to get as high as 120.  This is NOT the time to wear jeans, in my opinion.  However, jeans are a good choice when it comes to swamp ass- you may have it, but other people will not see it.

I prefer to wear lighter materials in the summer, such as linen or khaki.  This is not good when it comes to swamp ass.  These materials are thinner, and as a result, are more likely to be transparent when exposed to moisture.  And also, they will show where the moisture is located.

One hot afternoon, a friend and I decided to go to an upscale mall, located in Scottsdale.  A mall, in my world, means shopping, food, and most important, air conditioning.  Not a bad idea.

So I thought.

We took my car, which thankfully has cloth seats.  There was free parking in a covered garage which meant the car would be somewhat cooler than if it had been out in an open lot.

As we got out of the car, I headed to the mall.

But my friend had a different idea.  She wanted to go to a cooking store, which was across the street and about a block down.

Since I do NOT cook, I did not see the point in this exercise.  Also, it meant that we would be out of the air conditioning for more than five minutes, which is exceeding my comfort zone.

I went with her.  Enter dumbass, stage right.

So we walked across the acre of parking lot and across the asphalt street, chatting all the way.  It is not until I looked in a shop window to check my hair that I saw it.

The beginnings of swamp ass.

I had my friend check my butt to see if it was showing.

She said it was not too bad.

I said that I needed to get in into some AC ASAP so it would not grow into a monster and take over my pants.

She is skinny, but does sympathize with those who are not, and understood my need for climate control.

We went into the cooking store, and did some shopping.  I even found some stuff in there (not really cooking stuff- more gadgets to sit on the counter, gather dust, and be donated to charity in two years).

It is on our way back to the mall that the demon swamp ass made itself known.

We had to use the potty in the mall.

When I was done, I checked myself out in the mirror, and turned to make sure I had nothing on my ass.

Swamp ass had just claimed a new victim.

And here we were, in an upscale store, and I had a massive wet spot on my ass that looked like I had no bladder control.

That meant I had to go shopping, and carry the shopping bag over my ass somehow to hide the monster’s invasion.

I bought shoes.

It was a good solution.

In the summer, when you see gila monsters checking into hotels and trees whistling for dogs, know that you may be the next victim of swamp ass.

And in the fall, when everyone is enjoying the crisp air and the turning leaves, I will be breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that I have survived another season of swamp ass.

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