When you’re meeting your in-laws for the first time, on a nice summer night at an expensive restaurant, one of the factors you can’t control is the temperature. If you’re sitting on the patio, you can asked to be moved into the dining room, but there’s not much you can do when the waitress, wiping her forehead, apologizes and reports the air conditioner is out. Look up; the ceiling fans are getting a workout like a jogger on the highest speed of a treadmill, and you barely feel your relief. Your fiance perspires; her parents are perspiring, too. It feels like the heater is on – in this case, that orange, glowing furnace in the sky, pumping heat in rays; the thermostat next to your table reads 85 degrees! The waitress complains that the heater failed three times last winter, but you’re perspiring so much that you wish that the heater, obviously an innocent party to this, would die a horrible death, and be replaced by additional air conditioner units. “Seven other waitresses called in sick today because of this,” she offers, uselessly. A sign in the window saying “no air conditioning” today might’ve helped. But, when you’re eager to please the future in-laws, you’ve got to stay cool under pressure. “Go out and buy more air conditioners!” you’re tempted to command. Instead, all they can do is offer you a $10 gift certificate, as you discover, to your relief, that your father-in-law is laughing about this ordeal. Your fiance is happy everyone is getting along, and you’re invited back to their cool, perfectly climate-controlled home for drinks afterward.