Trailer Snobs

If I could have moved my first house to a much better street around much better people in a much better town I would have hooked it up to Oswalt's house-hauling trailer in a mini-second.

The only thing I miss is the house. I miss my beautiful little cottage with a foundation. I don't miss the neighbors, I don't miss looking out the window and seeing a house next to me and I really don't miss having to share my driveway.
I've had a good time in the camper, it's been fun--adventurous and bohemian. I feel a close kinship to California VW full timers more than anyone else in the world. However, the times (they are) a changing...as I've said before, I miss the solid foundation.

Today after a quick, seven minute trip to the post office, I pulled back into our empty campground to find an old rig parked in the site directly in front of my camper. Out of ALL the empty spots in the campground, the bastard managers choose to park this monstrosity in my front "yard". The old man keeps saying we have it coming. Nobody likes us, and it's because of our age. We're not from New York or Ohio and we're under 50. With this working against us, we've met our share of campground haters since we bought the big rig. What's amazing is the new campground managers seem to hate us and have never even met us...as they ride by on their golf carts they stare and give the camper dirty looks and turn their nose up. At the CAMPER?!
Reba is my camper's name, I wonder sometimes if it hurts her feelings.

I was, I guess...how do you say it? Madder than Hell. Yes, madder than hell when I pulled into my site located in the back of the campground off the beaten path to find another trailer only inches from my picnic table.
I'm also alone. I'm alone with my dog and Reba. And "they" park a single man beside me. I guess they thought they'd liven things up for me. Maybe they don't like us because of my libertarian bumper stickers plastered all over my dog food tote. Maybe it's because I fly the Edward Teach flag from my awning. Maybe it's because I'm clean, neat, quiet, and friendly. Whatever it is, we can't win for losing. One day we'll be "old" and grey, and we'll finally fit in. Right now I feel like the freshman who always got "booed" as they walked in the gymnasium on the first day of school. Haters. Bastards.

Anyway, I've had enough and it's time to get out the dove's blood and the goofer dust. I'm going to do something about this once and for all.

EDITORS NOTE: Update! This morning before dawn, the front door foes had suddenly disappeared. Probably trying to beat the rush hour traffic on 95 to Orlando. I do need to mention that as soon as they pulled in yesterday, they unloaded about 3 tons of crap from their truck and trailer. Potted plants, lawn chairs, lawn decor, generators...you name it, they brought it. Not only did they bring it, they put it out as if they were staying here for a year (wait, that's me) only to haul it all in again the next morning at the crack of dawn. I chuckle to myself with a smug little grin as I watch these RV nimrods through my faux wood blinds. It's not just an RV fetish, the tent campers seem to have this same disorder. They arrive at almost dusk dark, unpack a year's worth of food and camping crap (that they just picked up at Camping World, R.E.I., or Wal-Mart for the savvy shoppers) set up their tent, drink a few beers by the fire, leave their trash lying around for the raccoons, and by the next morning they're packing it all up in order to make it home before sundown. I'll never understand it, camping for one day...it's not worth it. Dragging this big rig around the country, I've learned that set-up is the most strenuous event of the entire trip. Who the Hell wants to unpack it, unhook it, undo it, unscrew it all for one lousy day / night of "camping"? (cackling continues) They do!