Let’s get a couple things straight. The RV has played a big part in my life, and when I get into trouble, it’s usually with Grace. But, you knew that part about Grace.
So one day, we’re in the driveway, about to drive to school. Her car had a serious flat, and seeing as how step-dad (a glorious man, that one) had put the sumbitch on with a torque wrench, there was no getting that bad boy off the car.
School, for us, wasn’t a happy jaunt through a quiet neighborhood. We lived 20 miles from school, and had to pass by a spooky motherfucking wooded lake to get there. And a couple of yaks. No lie.
Was there a graveyard too? Fuck, now I don’t remember. Seems like there was.
Whoakay, back to the story.
So, there was no walking for us.
We had to make a choice. One, we could stay home from school and get our asses kicked. Or, we could ride our horses to school, possibly picking up dysentery or losing Ma after fording the river.
Or we take the family RV.
Grace looked at me, standing there dorkishly in my blue t-shirt,wranglers, and rose-tinted glasses.
I nodded. We were going for it.
Grace started up The Widowmaker, and off we went. I rode to school in fucking STYLE that day, chillin’ on the couch in the back, eatin’ my cheerios like a fucking king.
“GET YOUR ASS IN THE FRONT SEAT, NOA.”
“No way. The couch is awesome.”
“GOD DAMN YOU.”
As we lurched through the bar ditch to enter the parking lot (yet again, not joking), Grace suddenly noticed something was amiss.
“Noa, something is sparking outside. Stick your head out the window and see what it is.”
I got a glimpse of the perpetrator only as it whizzed 2 inches from my head and slammed into the map of America on the starboard side, sparking the fuck out of the countryside.
“HOLY SHIT GRACE, WE NEVER UNPLUGGED THE RV! WE’RE DRAGGING THE FUCKING POWER OUTLET.”
In case you didn’t know, RV’s need to be plugged in for a time. Ours was plugged in on a free-standing outdoor outlet, which we ripped from the earth and drug behind The Widowmaker for 20 damn miles. The outlet whipped violently around for the entire time, and WHOAfucking up the fiberglass.
Later that night, upon arriving back home in The Widowmaker, while the step-dad stood watching our embarrassed asses lumber back in:
“YOU CHOSE TO DRIVE THE RV TO FUCKING SCHOOL?”
“What else were we supposed to do? You put my lug nuts on with a torque wrench, there was no way we could get them back off.”
“RIDE THE HORSES TO SCHOOL.”
“And then what? Where the hell do we put the horses when we get there?”
“LET THEM GRAZE ON THE FOOTBALL FIELD.”
Can’t make it up, y’all.