“I can’t take this heat anymore,” I said, pushing back strands of hair that blew free from my headband. The open car windows did little to bring relief from Louisiana’s thick, oppressing air. “Might as well be holding a hair dryer up against my face,” I added for dramatic effect.
“For someone who grew up here, you sure complain a lot about the heat,” Daniel said. He poked me in the thigh.
“Well, we had this thing called air conditioning and it actually worked,” I said, returning a double jab to his thigh.