Today I visited an RV sales lot.
A rainstorm had passed through and puddles were scattered across the parking lot reflecting shiny brand new RVs. Each one was a different size. Some were outrageously large (Only $47,899 Special *Scratch & Dent* Sale!) and some were smaller (Stores Comfortably in Your Garage!)
At first I was alone, wandering between towering white boxes, feeling like I'd stumbled into some cheap adult version of Legoland. Some of these Recreational Vehicles had their doors swung open, waiting patiently for a browser to stop and look inside and imagine themselves either cooking, sleeping, or sitting awkwardly on the 5inch deep couch that faces either a window, miniaturized sink, or a door leading to your toilet/shower/closet.
I climbed into one at the back of the parking lot. Its window was facing a nearby freeway - a scene I'm sure confuses a vehicle born to be tucked deep in the woods or somewhere in Death Valley.
Suddenly the RV shook and a salesman climbed aboard and started talking at me. Asking me how my day was going, glad the weather cleared up, yeah this one's got great sleeping space considering its size as long as you're not too tall har har har.....
The first thing that came to mind when he'd clambered up next to me wasn't the irritation of now needing to shake him loose, or even the claustrophobia I felt as he blocked the one exit from this wheeled tic-tac. It was the realization that if anyone even tried to have sex in this vehicle it would shake like a chihuahua in a snow storm. Isn't that the POINT of an RV? To have a private space to bump uglies that isn't a tent on a rock-covered forest floor? To possess a personal secret bubble of fornication possibilities? To wistfully look out your window (at an ocean not a freeway) AND be naked??
Any and all romantic notions I'd had about stealing away with a lover in a small RV were crushed like peanut shells under a circus elephant.
Then, the grayhaired salesman says this to me: "And you know, it sets up real easy and fast! You could be driving along, see somewhere you wanna stop for a quickie -"
He stumbled over his words, looked embarrassed, tried to recover by adding "A quick nap or sleep, you know?"
I could tell he hadn't meant it sexually,
I could tell he'd realized his verbal blunder and was mortified,
but I could also tell I wasn't the first person to have noted a vital flaw in this "Recreational" Vehicle.