SALEM, OR — With Oregon bracing for what forecasters are calling a “long, dry, sweat-stained summer,” local man Greg Landers is getting a head start on the statewide suffering after his car’s AC gave up the ghost before June even had the decency to hit 90.
“My AC worked yesterday,” said Landers, 36, who was seen sitting motionless in traffic with all four windows down and the faint smell of scorched vinyl rising from his 2008 Toyota Corolla. “Then today it just started coughing out warm disappointment.”
While the real heat hasn’t arrived yet, the National Weather Service has warned Oregonians that the coming months will be “unseasonably brutal,” “likely flammable,” and “a great time to test your relationship with deodorant.” But Landers is ahead of the game — now enjoying the raw, immersive experience of driving a fully enclosed convection oven.
“It’s like the car wants me to confront the season directly,” he said, fanning himself with an Arby’s receipt and trying to remember what cool air once felt like. “This isn’t about comfort anymore. It’s about personal growth through dehydration.”
Landers’ heat-coping techniques have included:
- Holding a popsicle to his forehead at red lights
- Spraying himself with a plant mister labeled “emotional support water”
- Driving shirtless with a bag of frozen peas tucked into his waistband
Despite his efforts, a mechanic informed Landers that their first available appointment is in “late October, possibly early November if we survive.” Until then, he plans to lean into the misery.
“I’m calling it a heatstroke cleanse,” he said. “Realignment through suffering. I feel closer to the Earth. And by Earth, I mean the smoldering pit it’s becoming.”
Witnesses say Landers has been spotted loitering near the freezer aisle at Safeway for spiritual refuge and occasionally driving laps through the Dairy Queen drive-thru just to absorb whatever arctic air leaks from the service window.
At time of writing, he had duct-taped an old desk fan to his dashboard and was researching how to convert a Coleman cooler into a DIY swamp cooler.
“Best summer ever,” Landers said, his face beet red and spiritually broken. “Can’t wait to experience every single degree of it.”
