mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Why I Gave Up Car Camping Up until about 10:00 AM on Friday morning I truly thought we'd be doing some hike-in camping for the 4th of July weekend. Then I had to admit that the knee injury I have been complaining about for the last two weeks might prevent me from executing this plan. I felt bad, really bad. I knew Pete had been looking forward to getting away. To complicate matters, we were planning to meet our friends Judy and Jiri at a remote location in the woods where they were completely unreachable. I was considering literally risking life and limb to make everyone happy but then I had a vision of myself being helicoptered out of the mountains by the Forest Service and I saw myself at a later date opening the bill for such a service ("$10,000.00 for a camping trip!") and decided I had no choice but to bow out. In an effort to make this up to Pete, I proposed a car camping trip. We selected a nice spot based on internet referrals and headed out at noon completely stocked. We had the camp stove, bacon, sausages, marshmallows, a folding chair, potato chips, books, magazines, fishing rods, a canoe, the kitchen sink and most importantly a ton of beer. For those of you that don't hike-in camp, I will let you in on a little something - there are no luxuries worth carrying on your back for miles and miles. Seriously, the only things I carry in are a change of underwear, my sleeping bag, a tent, dried food, and water. It's a bare bones operation. But with this car camping experience, I really spared no expense. We selected a spot about two hours from Seattle and run by the local energy company. I was not overjoyed upon arrival. This was not the at-one-with nature experience I am used to. The camping spots were well worn and the people were plentiful. I saw more than one souped up RV (why bother coming out into the woods if your just going to sit inside and watch TV?). The lake was filled with jet skis and motor boats and then there were the screaming kids with their Game Boys. Despite all this, I decided I would have a good time if it killed me. We set up camp, lit a fire, cracked a cold one and sat back to relax. For awhile, all was fine. Pete and I chatted and roasted marshmallows. Then it was time to turn in. I was out like a light despite the Lynyrd Skynyrd fan club that was congregating one camp over. We awoke around 6:30 AM and emerged to make coffee. It was then that we discovered our cooler had been stolen while we slept. Actually, Pete noticed it. I can't make heads or tails of anything till I have a cup of coffee (that's one thing I *do* pack in). I got a pot brewing and pondered (read: sat lifelessly) what to do next. Pete, on the other hand, sprung into action. He went straight to the official campground office and told them our dilemma. Unfortunately, they were less then sympathetic. In fact, they basically told him "it happens to you city folk all the time." Then they told him a cooler had been found on the beach with the contents spilled out but could he identify the make and model of his cooler? Who fucking knows what make and model their cooler is?!!! It's red! It had beer and bacon and things that you take camping ferchrissakes. After a bit more harassing, the cooler was returned sans beer (surprise, surprise) and I knew we would be going home that day. Unfortunately, that would require me demanding a partial refund on the campsite. We had paid for three nights and stayed one. I knew getting my money back would be no easy feat. I approached the office with Pete in tow and explained to the clerk that we were the couple who had had their cooler taken. I then elaborated that I felt that set a bad tone for the trip and that we wanted to leave. I would need a refund. She looked at me as if I had two heads. "Well, you know that kind of stuff happens all the time (implied: especially to you city folk) and it's very very difficult to give a refund on a credit card." I have been a retail clerk. I have worked a credit card machine and done both charges and refunds. I have to tell you nothing in the world could be easier. I don't understand why other retail clerks act as if giving a refund is as tricky as say deciphering Morse Code. But rather than point that out I looked at her sweetly and said "No problem, I am in no rush. You take your time." "Well I gotta call a manager or somthun'. I can't do this on my own. Here's some paper work you'll need to fill out." Girlfriend hands me a three page document which basically asks for detailed explanation of why I want a refund. Now I could have filled up a book about the issues with this site but I decided to limit my comments to the cooler incident. Reason for leaving -" theft of property, site not secure." When the manager finally showed up I gave him the same spiel I had given the girl behind the counter. His response: "So? I can't give you a refund just because your stuff got stolen. Besides which, you got your stuff back." Um, no I didn't. I got the cooler back but it was empty! I decided to keep my cool though. I figured if I was going to win this one, I'd need to play along with old Jeb here. "Well, you and I both know that you'll have that site rented again in 15 minutes on a holiday weekend like this. Why don't you be a good guy and just refund our money?" Jeb looked down at the paperwork and read out loud "'Site not secure' - I can't give you your money back for that. Nah un." Here's where Pete jumped in. "I'm sorry," Pete yelled. "You can't give us our money back when our stuff was stolen on your property?!!! That's not a serious enough reason for a refund in your opinion?!!! What about if some guy stabs me while I'm sleeping in the tent?!!! Does that warrant a refund? No misdemeanors but maybe felonies merit refunds?!!!" Things only got uglier from there but somehow we did get our money back and we were back in Seattle by noon. To make it up to ourselves, we pampered our whims for the rest of the long weekend. We purchased steaks from Whole Paychecks to grill on Earl. We napped and took long bike rides and watched Fahrenheit 9/11 as the fireworks were exploding over Lake Washington. We read books and went to the dog park and sipped beer in the sunshine. And things were truly lovely. All weekends should be three days long. This week, two psychical therapy appointments (which I will elaborate on at a later date), a celebratory dinner with some of my favorite lovely ladies, and of course, more grilling. Happy July! 9:02 a.m. - 2004-07-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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