This is another episode of Tales From the RV Park, life in the RV parks I’ve been camped at. Disclaimer: These stories are fictitious, happened in nightmares, are hearsay, and/or are what others recounted to me. I am part Irish, so there is likely a good deal of exaggeration. The names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent. There is no relation to persons living, dead, or in jail, even if you think so. In other words, don’t bother trying to sue me, and I have no money.
Southern Fried Hatin’ and Trailer Park Tush
There was a long-time tenant, a guy from the deep south. I never saw him without a drink in his hand. He was a nice guy, if you could overlook the blatant racism and sexism, which was hard to do. He never once held back a negative comment about a woman, or a non-white male – even if one was standing right in front of him. If you weren’t white and male, he would likely insult you within five minutes of talking to him. It’s a wonder he never got into a fist fight in all the time he lived at the park.
We’ll call him Southern Fried Hatin’.
Hatin’ had a girlfriend/wanna-be-wife. For the majority of Hatin’s stay at the RV park, his girlfriend lived at his house (a “stick and brick” as RVers say) far away. She isn’t what you’d call ugly, but she isn’t exactly pretty, either. She’s kind of rough looking. “Rode hard and put away wet” applies.
Hatin’ gets her whatever she wants: a set of boobs; an engagement ring; a car; places to live; cars and jobs for her adult kids; an education; dogs; manicures; etc. She eventually moved to the RV park to live full-time with Hatin’, because she gets whatever she wants — including the man next door. She earned a reputation for hooking up with the men in the RV park – all while Hatin’ was passed out in his trailer just down the row.
We’ll call her Trailer Park Tush.
A Night at the RV Park
Hatin’ would drink every night to excess. Tush, too. They would often have a big fight. In fact, I’ve seen them fighting more often than I’ve seen them being happy together. Hatin’ had to be at work early, so he’d be passed out fairly early. This would leave Tush free to roam about the park unsupervised. And like a cat in heat, roam she would. She’d work her way down the row of RVs and any man standing outside was fair game for her approach.
Two stories relayed to me are both from two men who did not take her up on her, umm, “offer”. The two stories are almost identical, so I’ll just tell the funniest one as recounted to me by a nice guy I’ll call One of the Good Ones, OGO for short. (He got this title in part by being an all around nice guy, one of the better tenants – he landscaped his RV spot! – but also because of how he handled Tush.)
OGO, a tall, broad-shouldered man, was having a cigarette outside his trailer when Tush comes wandering down the row. (For point of reference, OGO’s trailer was the next closest to Hatin’ and Tush’s and her first opportunity…) Having been neighbors for some time, they are on friendly terms. She asks if she can have a smoke with him.
OGO says, “Sure.” But inside he’s a bit leery – he’s heard the rumors.
Then Tush asked OGO, “Take me down to the river.” Remember, it’s night. There is nothing to see down there at night. There isn’t MUCH to do down there, either.
He says, “Nope.”
She pleads, “Come on. I don’t want to go down there alooone.” Keep in mind – this park is a completely safe place. Except from Tush.
OGO says, “NOPE. I’m not going down to the river with you. You go.”
Tush chides, “What, are you scared?”
And this is the moment OGO earned more of my respect:
Big, burly, six-foot-two-inch tall OGO replies, “Yup, I’m scared.” And then he went inside his trailer and shut the door, leaving Tush standing there alone.
Yes, OGO is married, but I’ve seen how that doesn’t stop as many as it should. Case in point: Tush and Hatin’ are engaged.
This just in: Tush shot her car. Yes, with a gun. Details coming soon. (They may not live at this park anymore, but this is a small town and they didn’t move very far away. At least not far enough.)