An Open Letter to Vacaville Summers

Dear Vacaville Summer,

A lot of people enjoy you and eagerly look forward to your arrival every year.

I’m not one of these people.

You bring a lot of people joy with your debilitating heat that makes it feel like I’m on the surface of the sun.

I’m not one of these people.

You make my car a little oven on wheels where the seat belts are a thousand degrees and leather seats bond with my naked thighs when I wear shorts.

Thanks for that.

And you ruin my tanning lotion when I leave it in that little mobile sauna I call my car when you come around.

That’s not going to happen this year, just so you know.

Vacaville Summer, I know so many people love you, but I grieve your coming, I count the days

to your annual demise, I try to avoid you.

Don’t take this personally, but please run your course quickly and don’t think you’re going to get the chance to ruin my heat-activated tanning lotion when it’s in my car because you won’t.

I vow to keep it in my Bottoms Up duffle bag with my peepers and bring it in my house when I come home from tanning. I promise myself I won't let you claim another tanning lotion bottle nor ruin its ingredients, costing me money, and making me despise you more.

I hope you got the message, Vacaville Summer. I love that you let me show off my sun-kissed skin with sundresses and sleeveless tops, but your heat won’t take another lotion from me.

Mark my words.

Love,

A Vacavillian

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