While we were waiting, I heard this man talking. What first caught my attention was that his voice sounded a little like one of my brother-in-laws. So I looked up to pinpoint who was speaking. It was another customer, an older man - maybe late 60’s early 70’s - and he had the kind of voice that carried. He said, “And you know, SEX SELLS.”
Say what?
He was talking to an even older man across the table from him.
I continued talking to Jim, but couldn’t help hearing bits of the old guy’s conversation like, “I have TWO women in the Philippines. But I can only marry ONE of them.”
Ha!
Then I heard, “Virgin. They have to be a virgin! I don’t want them having sex with everyone else!”
Here’s what I’m thinking. I’m thinking he obviously didn’t send a picture of himself to them.
He’s probably thinking that these women are interested in something in his pants.
Yeah, right. His WALLET!
So that made our time go a little faster, tic-toc, waiting for our food. FINALLY it arrived.
It was just okay.
I watched Mr. Sexpot get up and leave the restaurant, with his companion following him, who was this stooped over, old, old man. What gives?
We arrived at this little county campground, which we have stayed at several times, around 4:00 pm. The campground managers are always there on sight.
Well, not this day.
I knocked on their door, rang the doorbell, but nobody was home.
Now, they KNEW we were coming - I made reservations a couple of months ago. They COULD have left a note on the message board stating which site was ours. But that would have been too smart.
So Jim and I sat in the truck, while the skies darkened, threatening to open up at any minute.
A fellow camper came over and talked with us and offered us the manager’s cell phone number. I called and it just went to voice mail. Uh, hello, can we talk inept?
Of course it started to rain.
We were not happy campers.
Finally, 20 minutes later, they showed up. “Who are you?” she asked.
Jim told her.
“Whatsamatter? You forget what site you’re on?”
“NO,” I replied, trying to keep my temper in check, “You never TOLD me the number.”
“Oh I’m sure I did!” She said as she went into her trailer with her groceries.
I just looked at Jim and said, “She NEVER told me because I would have written it down! As a matter of fact, I requested a certain area and she didn’t say anything to me about it!”
But I just got out of the truck and followed her to her trailer to get our site number. Luckily it wasn’t raining too hard, and we got set up right away.
We DO have satellite here, but no WI FI. This means that Jim and I have to share ONE computer. This can only mean trouble. I might have to arm wrestle him for time on the computer. Even though I was the arm wrestling champ of the 6th grade, beating everybody but one guy (JACK INDURANTE!), I’ve lost my umph! I arm wrestled three guys back in Arizona this past March, and my arm took months to heal!
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