Suppose that one day a very good-looking woman has to get into her Volvo to drive home from the mall. (Not that it matters, but the woman was only at the mall because Estee Lauder had a “free gift with purchase” and, even though most of their make-up smells like old lady hair, she still likes their More Than Mascara because it doesn’t clump up and make her look like an East Texas tranny on holiday. Plus, the patented Lash-Defining Wand is, of course, magical.)
Unfortunately for the woman, the Volvo that she now has to get into has been sitting in the 95 degree sun for over an hour. This is not bueno, thinks the woman, for she has put her amazing 8th grade knowledge of Science to use and brilliantly deduced that it is probably even hotter inside the car than outside the car. (The woman thinks this is called Freud’s Theory of Naivety.)
The woman is now very worried because it is extremely hot outside the car and the woman is already sweating like a whore in church. Also, someone just spontaneously combusted over by the Sears Tire Center.
Alas, the woman has no choice but to get into her car because a babysitter is watching her kids and, if she is late again, the babysitter will not come back and then the woman will have to use Tasha The Skanky Teenager to babysit the next time there is a “free gift with purchase” and then she’ll have to put parental locks on her computer so Tasha doesn’t invite over another 40 year-old alcoholic carnival worker she met on MySpace. Oh, poor, poor very good-looking woman.
But then, as the brave and really quite youthful woman opens the door of the car and prepares to step into the blast furnace on wheels, she stops because she has thought of a hypothetical question and hypothetical questions always need hypothetical answers. Hypothetically, anyway.
What the woman wants to know is, if the inside of a woman’s car is heated to an oven temperature of 350 degrees and the woman sits inside the car for 20-25 minutes and, while sitting inside the car, the woman somehow develops a yeast infection, when she finally gets out of the car, will her pants be full of biscuits?