Friday, November 15
This is the first morning in three days that I haven’t felt weird.
I need to do something normal, something normal, something normal. . .
Wal-Mart!
I extricate myself from my lounge chair, lock up the Best Little Trailer, pack up the crew, and together we head out of Dome Rock Road Camp, Quartzsite, Arizona.
We’re on our way to the Wal-Mart in Parker!
Highway 95 skims across the desert in a perfectly straight line, going perfectly due north. It’s about a 35-mile drive. I don’t have any particular shopping goals, except a back-up bag of dog food. Well, I could buy a pair of sunglasses. Gee, I should’ve stopped at the booth in Quartzsite that sells sunglasses. Oh well . .
I park the PTV in Wal-Mart’s parking lot.
It’s a shady spot. I crack the windows. Spike prepares to take a nap. Bridget prepares to make a scene.
“I’ll be back in a little while. Be a good puppy, Bridget.” Sure.
Inside I glide on over to the women’s department.
I twirl the rack of sunglasses looking for a pair that doesn’t have glitter, sparkles, curly-cues, rhinestones, or neon colors. No wonder women on a budget are stereotyped as having poor taste. This crap is all they can find to buy!
I’m about to give up and go to the men’s department when I locate a pair of black plastic shades with no ornamentation. I try them on and peer into the tiny mirror on the rack. Hmm . . . for only ten bucks I can look like Roy Orbison..
“Hi, Roy. I’ve missed you.”
I put the sunglasses in my cart, cruise around, pick up a few more items, and call it a day.
After a rotisserie chicken chow-down, the crew and I motor out of Parker and head south to Big Q and our camp.
By the end of the day I feel pretty good. I’ve got my self back!
Saturday, November 16
The crew and I drive into town. We’re on our way to the naked bookseller’s store. I pull into the lot, park the PTV, let out the crew on their leashes, and we go up to the big double doors. A cardboard clock indicates Paul, the naked guy and owner, won’t be back until eleven.
I browse the free and bargain books set up on a table outside.
After I choose a few books and slide a few dollars under the door, as instructed by a sign, I turn to take the crew back to the PTV and . . . “Whoa! You startled me!”
It’s Paul on his bike.
He offers a friendly hello and opens up the store. I walk in amazement at the selection of books and materials. I’m also amazed that anyone can walk around without pants on such a chilly day.
I choose a few more books and pay. Should I ask for a photo or not? I know he’s probably posed for thousands of photos with tourists. There’s something tacky about asking for a photo when he’s wearing a jacket and a thong.
Paul follows me out into the sunshine, thanking me for my purchase.
“Is it okay if I take your photo with my dogs?” I ask, suddenly bold. “I like to take pictures of them wherever we go.”
“Of course!” he replies, posing with a thumbs-up.
Bridget and Spike tactfully look away, rather than up.
See the cat in the photo above? She’s having a drink, minding her own business.
Bridget and Spike forget their manners and tell her to scram. Funny how water always tastes better out of someone else’s dish.
Next stop is the thrift store.
I don’t find anything I want or need, so I move the PTV to the back of the store and drop off a bunch of clothes.
I didn’t mention the prospectors.
First thing this morning, they’re back at it. When we return to camp after going to town, they’re still in front of our campsite. About a half-hour later, they start up a generator or some kind of machine. Whatever it is, it makes an awful racket.
I hitch up, pack up and leave.
Our new camp is quieter, more private and with a prettier view!
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“REAR VIEW MIRROR”
April 27, 2011: In the early days of this blog I write about saving toward the purchase of the Best Little Trailer.
“If you want something badly enough . . . “
