Happy Birthday titaniasfics
This is not camping.
This little slice of dirt, surrounded by giant trailers and caravans, with their generators humming and televisions flashing. That’s not camping! Who comes out to the ‘wilderness’ just to watch TV anyway?
Nothing about this trip has gone according to plan. The tent I borrowed from Gale can hardly be called a tent at all, ‘pop-up coffin’ might better describe it. My sleeping bag fits in there. Sort of. But nothing else. He, of course, has the huge tent we usually share, and a mattress on a stand, because heaven forbid Madge soil herself by sleeping on the ground.
I should have realized, when Gale suggested inviting a bunch of friends along on our annual trip to the woods, that what he really meant was he wanted to bring his new girlfriend. And the red flags should have been flying when, instead of our typical backcountry camping, he suggested a drive up site. “But it’s right on the lake,” he’d insisted. “We can swim and fish, it’s going to be amazing!”
I guess his girlfriend prancing around in high-heeled sandals and a bikini about as big as a bandana, while refusing to actually go in the water (it’s not chlorinated!) is his definition of fun.
Who am I kidding, of course it’s his definition of fun. He looks at her like she hung the moon.
I’m not jealous, or at least, not in the way you might think. It’s just that Gale and I have been friends since we were kids. A brotherhood of sorts. Partners in crime like that are hard to find.