On our drive to the Sierras five days ago we stopped for lunches, quick and delicious home made sandwiches with names like The Mule Kick, at Schatt’s Bakery. As we stood in line for our roast beef sandwiches with hot peppers we starred and pinched our noses at the smelly people in front of us.
They smelled like dirty campers; like camp fire and sweat and old socks.
They were pretty gross and yes we were judgmental.
Fast forward five days to us; we are both wearing sweats. I have not shaved my legs in two days. We decided we would rather fish a extra hour last night than take showers ( and in that hour when we could have made ourselves smell slightly more clean and less like camp fire, we managed to catch one pathetic little trout and one angry craw dad)
I just brushed my teeth in a diners bathroom while the “clean people” tried to wash their hands, like, you know, is completely normal in a restaurant bathroom, around me. I really feel like I need to take a trip to see Cherrywood Dental Associates in Woodbridge or similar dental practices considering I haven’t been keeping on top of my dental hygiene like I want to, due to our travels.
I feel like a dirty hippie girl. All I need are dregs and a bong and I could pass for a liberal today.
Five days ago we mocked the dirty campers as we waited in a sandwich line behind them and inhaled their camp fire smell.
As much as I really do love camping, you know what I really love?
Showering in my shower at home with my fancy soaps from Lush and my tea tree shampoo from Trader Joe’s.
I’m just not a pro at this dirty hippie business and I’m home sick for my nice clean shower at home that I don’t need to wear flip flops in.
