Campy Camping - Episode 5

I'm not exactly what would be referred to as people person.  There is generally nothing in my attitude or posture that invites unsolicited conversation from strangers.  I don't want or require small talk or random confabulation. 

Parlez vous no, nein, nyet!

So on one of my treks to the toilet . . . mind you, since I have to hike all the way to the bathroom (okay it’s only something like 150 steps) I wait until I can’t wait any longer to go . . .

Anyhoo . . . on one of my treks to the toilet I heard a disembodied voice calling out from of the shower rooms.

“Do you need to use the shower?”

Did I stink?  B.O. check . . . nope fresh and clean as a newly hatched daisy.

So, why the owner of this voice might think I’d want or need a shower I don’t know. I wasn’t dithering . . . I was making a direct and purposeful bee-line for the potty . . . bladder screaming.

“Uh, no, thanks.” I replied as I continued onward, forward and into the bathroom.

Just as I’m about to enter the stall when a woman called out and started talking to me.  I should have just kept right on going because I really had to go.

Presumably this was the owner of the voice from the shower as she had slicked back wet hair.  She was also sporting a green toothbrush in one hand and a towel in the other.

She started asking me how I liked the campground. 

“Uhm, its okay, I guess.” 

I started to turn away then she started blathering on about this and that . . .  hopping from random topic to obscure subject.

Legs crossed, jaw clenched.

I may not be a people person but I’m also not rude.  So I stood there and responded in the appropriate places with “uh huh”, “yes”, “no”, etc.

Begin the pee-pee dance.

She talked about personal hygiene, how kids today are inconsiderate, Dr. Phil and lord knows what else . . . I started zoning out . . . all the while she’s shoving the toothbrush all around in her mouth.

I thought briefly of making a break for the toilet and locking the stall door behind me.  But she seemed the type who might climb under the door and keep right on yapping.

Stalker.

I got my chance when a gaggle of giggling teen age girls came in.  While I was taking care of business I heard her ask the girls if they thought it was right to not flush the toilet, asked if they washed their hands after using the bathroom and gave them a lesson on “if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie”.  I kid you not.

I went as fast as I could without rupturing any internals and got out of there while she was lecturing the poor unsuspecting girls.  Better them than me!

I’m almost to the path that leads to our site when I hear her calling out from behind me . . .

“Hey wait up . . . I’m going this way, too.”

**sigh**

I didn’t stop but she caught up with me . . . I should’ve just made a mad dash to the campsite.  But then she would’ve known where I was camping . . . I couldn’t have that!

She yip yapped all the way . . . waiving her toothbrush around like she was leading an insane orchestra and I was the captive audience.

Finally, we reached the point where we were to part ways.  There was no WAY I was bringing her home with me! 

I was like, “Uhm, I have to go.  My husband must be wondering what’s happened to me.”

I left her standing there looking somewhat dejected. 

I found out later that her campsite wasn’t anywhere near mine and there was no reason for her to follow me around like a deranged puppy chewing my ear off.

I managed to avoid her the rest of the weekend . . . ducking behind cover or pulling my sweatshirt hood up over my head.  That is until we were packing up.  I saw her walking up the road as we were loading the truck.

“Pssst . . . that’s her.”  I whispered to my husband while I ducked under the tailgate.  “No eye contact!”    Too late.

“Oh!! There you are!” she hollered.

“Yeah, we’re just leaving.” I said as I climbed into the truck and I closed my door.

Hasta la locura,  you whacked out gum flapping bizarro senora!