At least I've got a lawn!

When I parked the night before, I’d backed into this parking space. It was always good if I could park the back end of the RV in a protected area when sleeping in a public space, like a parking lot or a street. I did this for two reasons:

1. It afforded protection. I could sleep better knowing that the rear of the RV (the bedroom) was better protected from errant or drunken drivers who may be spinning around a parking lot or swerving off the road.

2. It usually provided better noise insulation because traffic wouldn’t be driving so close to the bedroom.

Only, when I parked the night before over the blanket of snow, I hadn’t even thought about there being a freeway less than 100 yards away.

As I stepped outside with Buena and surveyed my surroundings, I noticed thick grass beneath the melting snow. Grass and not sand? This was pretty nice! Buena really enjoyed the grass since she was usually on dirt with the occasional goathead getting stuck in her foot.

An old RV (older than my own) sat parked cattycorner to my own. It looked to be about 26-feet, but it had a really interesting set of upper windows. It was like a raised soffit with tiny oval windows on either side, letting in extra light. In my mind’s eye, I decorated the inside with wood and plants and—maybe—some antiqued fixtures and candles.

While I watched Buena inspect the snow, a woman came out. She had short-cropped brown hair and held her head back at an angle, right jaw forward. She talked quickly and jerked like a tweaker.

“Hey! You pulled in last night,” she said, cinching the belt at her waist so it fit better.

“Yeah,” I said slowly. What do I say? “Came down from Las Lunes yesterday.”

“They got snow up there?” she said with a gruff voice.

“Oh yeah. Snowed all the way down.” My flat voice and our conversation made us sound like two truckers. “You’ve got a nice rig. I like the windows up top.”

“Oh! I know,” she brightened. "That’s why I bought it, but the thing is a piece of crap now. That mechanic took all my money and fixed something that wasn’t even broken and now it still has the same problem it had when I bought it and parked in my sister’s driveway but I had to get out of there because my sister is a bitch and so full of hatred so I couldn’t stay there so I came here.”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well, at least you’ve got a nice lawn.”

“Right? I've got a lawn! That’s what I was thinking. I tried going to the other Walmart but the people there aren’t as friendly as the people here and you can just forget about going over to the Rinconada store because they don’t really want you parked in their lot and they’ll make sure you know it so there was nowhere else to go so I came over here to park and I don’t have money to keep driving around not that I can drive around any more but that mechanic screwed me out of $1400 yes you heard that right $1400 he took my money and didn’t fix a damn thing and now I’m pretty much stuck here because I sure won’t stay at my sister’s place ever again but at least I can stay here where I can get my PTSD meds I mean this Walmart hasn’t said anything yet I don’t even know if they know I’m here so I’m just going to keep on living here as long as I can because it’s free and I can wait for my check to come in and then see about getting something else to drive but there’s everything I need right here.”

“And you’ve got trees and birds,” I said, indicating the morning birds making long calls in the trees at the edge of the parking lot.

“Like I said, ‘It’s a nice place.’”

With that, she turned and, in an angular sideways fashion, she went back inside her rig.