Last September, I was invited to a bridal shower at an expensive, boutique diner downtown. The afternoon of the shower, the atmosphere was quite chilly, with the temperature remaining at twenty-five degrees accompanied by snow. Because of the zone of the diner, I needed to park multiple blocks away. By then, I strolled through the chilly snow, donning high heels, passing on an absolutely heavy gift. When I arrived at the diner, I was cold, wet and absolutely agitated. I planned to get out of my coat, obtain warmth and order a drink. Unfortunately, the diner was only slightly warmer than the weather outside. Someone believed it would be a great proposal to spark a fire in the pit rather than changing the control unit settings. They did not remember to open the flue to ventilate the area, therefore smoke filled the location. The smoke was thick, the shower guests were coughing and grumbling of aches and pains. The management of the diner decided to open all of the doors to allow fresh air to flow in and help the smoke to leave. They didn’t want to run the oil furnace and spend a fortune on squandered vitality. The primary heat was from the fire in the pit, so everyone crowded close to it. I left my coat on, put myself at the bar, and requested a great sized glass of wine. The shower was a horrendous experience, and I hastily got out of there. With no current oil furnace operating, the location was never equipped with warmth. My clothes saturated with the smell of smoke and my shoes were more wet than dry the whole time. I exited soon after, rushed to my car, and turned up the heater.