It’s hot today. Officially, it’s probably around 90 degrees. Unofficially, which is the real world, it’s 95 with high humidity.
I was driving along, not paying much attention, with Little Feat turned up and listening to “Feet Don’t Fail Me Now”, when a group of motorcycles caught my attention of the rear view mirror. I reached a traffic light first, so I had some time to examine the group, particularly one rider, as they stopped next to me at the light.
None were dressed to ride on the highway, since most were in tank tops, t-shirts and not wearing gloves. I know this sounds a little excessive, but road rash, large bugs and the sun can play havoc on an exposed rider. I credit them for wearing helmets, but your head isn’t the only thing that can be damaged.
Anyway, back to the particular rider: I’d say she was around thirty in age, a few pounds overweight and had eight pounds of boobs - with four pounds exposed to the brutal sun. From my memory of cooking charts, she was somewhere between rare, and medium rare. Considering their path, she would cook for a few more hours. That’s what inspired my title.
Later this evening, I doubt she’ll be without volunteers to place salve, although their efforts will probably be in vain. That woman is going to suffer and there’s little she can do, except never make the mistake again.