My father owned a roofing company, and he had a lot of workers to work for him. Most of them were seasoned workers, and they would be up on the roof in their short sleeved shirts, and sunglasses, and although they were hot and sweaty, they didn’t really mind it. I remember watching them dumping water over their heads and wondering if it worked like an air conditioner for them. When I turned eighteen, my dad started to teach me the roofing business. He taught me all about the jobs that were done on the ground. I didn’t mind this, because I could get a drink when I needed one, and if I needed a reprieve from the sun, I would hop into the cab of the tar truck, and get cooled off with the air conditioning. Being a redhead, I had really fair skin, and I burnt easily. I had to wear long sleeve shirts, and long pants. I always had on a large brimmed hat and sunglasses, and tons of sunscreen beneath my clothing. When I went to college, I still worked during the summer, but because I was young and not afraid of heights, he put me on the roof. It was at least thirty degrees hotter up on top of the roof. I would imagine that every little breeze was the cooling breeze of the air conditioner. I would look down and see the other workers, and I started to hate them. They should have been up here, but they were drinking water, and relaxing in the air conditioning. I faked needing to pee, so I could go into the house and get some air conditioning. I just wanted to be cool.