I was driving to work in my loaner car (the Hyundai Azera) this morning and using all my concentration to ensure that I didn’t hit anyone or anything and that no one hit me. Not that I don’t concentrate other days, but I concentrate particularly hard when I am driving a vehicle that is not my own.
I believe it was my focus on safe driving that delayed the recognition that at some point my fanny was getting incredibly warm…uncomfortably warm. My first thought was that the car was on fire, but I saw no flames or smoke. It took a minute for me to figure out that the loaner must have heated seats. Unfortunately, I had no idea where the controls for the heated seats were and I was actively driving and dare not take my eyes off the road for an active hunt for the seat warming button.
So I did what any risk manager worth her snuff would do – I managed the risk. I did this by shifting from cheek to cheek to limit my exposure. This may seem like a simple enough feat, but I assure you it isn’t as easy as it sounds – particularly while driving. I can only imagine how my risk management looked to other drivers. I am sure that at the least it was a display of unusual oddity. I recognize that my cheek-hopping earned me a healthy dose of embarrassment.
I eventually figured out how to turn off the seat. The seat was – amazingly – only cranked up to a 3 out of a possible 5. That causes me to question – do I have an overly sensitive fanny? I thought I was close to third degree burns at a 3 – who cranks their seat heat to 5? I should add for clarity that I wasn’t in a flimsy dress or skirt – I had jeans on – Levis – real denim. My cheeks were getting charred on a 3 in denim…seriously. I have heard of hot pants, but this was ridiculous!
I am just so grateful that I was able to successfully hop from cheek to cheek until I could get the seats turned off. Had I actually received third degree burns and had to go to the hospital for treatment – well, let’s try not and envision how that would have played out. I would have undoubtedly been the butt of butt jokes for years. And heaven knows what stupid jokes I would have cracked while in the emergency room to try and cover up my abject horror at receiving a seat warming butt burn. Oh yes, the embarrassment could have much greater – I realize that.
I learned something from this experience (aside from how to shut off the seat warmers), I learned that my apparent sensitivity to bun warming seats should cause me to rethink my life choices. Let’s face it, I will never make it in hell if I can’t take heated car seats. Embarrassment and salvation in the same fell swoop – oh the joy of being me.
Day nine hundred and ninety of the new forty – obla di obla da