Grunt, they'll get it.

150 degrees today in NYC. We pedestrians moved about silently almost intolerably, 'No I can't move an inch to let you by, don't you see how hot I am?'
Everyone I knew who passed said some remark like 'arrgh fuck!', 'hot enough?', 'this sucks..'
In response I grunted, rolled my eyes and gave my best, whadda-ya-gonna-do? look. I was in Energy Saver Mode, don't ask for a thought process or verbalization of such. Not in this fucking heat. Just take to cave man lingo, we'll be fine.
At several points in the day I thought I was going to have some strange physical eruption, like my insides were going to burst out of my skin and run for the AC. I couldn't figure out what was happening, the only thing I could guess was that I might be in the process of eventually passing out but as I never have I wasn't sure.
At first I thought this would be a fine idea. I could fall over and people would come up and look at me and say to each other, 'she's passed out from the heat' and then I would wake up and call my clients and tell them I couldn't finish my walks as I had fainted and am now a delicate little flower who needs to be pampered by going home.
But then I started thinking about how I might fall, like face forward for instance. I would bust my nose and my sunglasses and my dogs might wander into the street and those helpful people standing over me might like my sporty bag that I had three hundred dollars in. So I decided fuck it and finish up.
I'll save the fainting for a time I can fall on some cute girls (S.) soft bed...say maybe tomorrow night?

Another NYC sob story
And another stiflingly hot story