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Noise Complaint: Hate, Rain on Me

People from Phoenix treat the summer like the zombie apocalypse. I realize this every time I stare out of a car window at people groaning and lifelessly shuffling in the heat. I think about how I would never dare go out there, for fear of being infected...
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People from Phoenix treat the summer like the zombie apocalypse. I realize this every time I stare out of a car window at people groaning and lifelessly shuffling in the heat. I think about how I would never dare go out there, for fear of being infected.

The sun in Phoenix has a magical effect on people. It makes every minor inconvenience seem like an attack on your dignity as a human being. It also turns previously sane people into deranged lunatics.

For example, I had to fill up a bike tire at a gas station. It’s a normally simple task that seemed like a personal injustice thanks to the sun. When I was finished, I barged into the gas station convenience store and heard the song “Ooh Child” by The Five Stairsteps playing on the radio.

Now, under normal circumstances I think that song is one of the most overtly positive and optimistic songs ever written. But thanks to the heat I began to curse the song and shake my fist at the speakers. Because in Phoenix during the summer, the last thing I want to be told is that “things will get brighter.”

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