Weekend Recap

This weekend was … rather not what we had expected (I’m trying to find the positive, here, folks). Most of our friends were going off to other states to visit family over the Father’s Day weekend (not that Father’s Day is celebrated all weekend, but that it happens to fall on a weekend, so people are willing to travel back to the old homestead or other fun vacation states for a visit—sorry dads).

Now, there is a group of people that we thought we had things in common with, but that weren’t our normal group of friends. And they were having a group campout this weekend. Since our usual partners in crime weren’t going to be around (so it wasn’t like we were snubbing them or anything [not that they thought so, just that I was worried about any perceived slight of camping with “potential new” friends over doing something with “established friends”…yes, I sometimes indulge in overthinking, but you all knew that]), we thought, “Hey, maybe we should go to the group camping!”

This would have been fine except for a few things: 1) They started the campout on Friday, but we didn’t show up until Saturday afternoon (because of previously scheduled activities), 2) The person who had told me that this would be a great time for us to join up with them and get to know folks wasn’t around this weekend (I was under the impression that he would be) and didn’t mention to anyone that we’d be showing up, 3) These people didn’t turn out to be the most welcoming bunch in the world (some folks didn’t talk to us the entire time we were there; don’t get me wrong, others did, but, mmm, only if we sat down next to them and started the conversation ourselves, and there was one couple and their 13 year old daughter who were very nice, indeed), but mostly, it was that 4) There was a handful of people who stayed up late Saturday night, got incredibly drunk, and, in the tradition of drunk people everywhere, spoke REALLY LOUDLY, kept insisting they were NOT DRUNK, and, with all their inhibitions lowered, used LANGUAGE THAT WOULD SHAME A SALTY DOG. In EVERY sentence. And decided a wonderful topic for this 2 a.m. conversation to be: “Bisexuality, versus homosexuality, heterosexuality, or a mix thereof, does not exist. Discuss.”

The Consort admitted on Sunday that he wondered, “Gosh, just how hard would it be to get the four of us up, into the car, and back home?” (This campout was at a state park only about 20 minutes out of town). But he decided the risk was too high that the camp gate was locked (as many do after a certain hour of the night), and we’d be stuck there anyway.

I admitted that although I really had to go to the bathroom around 4 am (really, from 2 am to 4 am and beyond), I wasn’t sure what scene would greet me if I left the tent, so I just held it in. (I usually have a bathroom run once during the night. This meant that above the loud conversation, the crass discussion of personal mores, and the overindulgence of alcoholic beverages [probably Milwaukee Beast, I’m guessing], I kept thinking about how I REALLY had to go, but I kept shutting up my inner voice [and not turning over onto my stomach or my left side, for obvious reasons]).

Yes, we could have asked them to be quiet, but heck, we felt we had kind of “crashed” their campout, you know? If the rest of them were OK with this (I still don’t understand how all those other folks were able to sleep through it [earplugs, maybe?]; really this was just 2 really loud people and maybe 2 others in for the conversation), then it wasn’t our place to say.

On Sunday morning, we four went for a nice hike down to the lake, and I made sure to tell the girls that not all adults were like these two. Trixie, who I found out went to the bathroom three times during the night (three times! she's a brave one), informed me that “They were pretty loud.” (Luckily, although she heard about the bisexual vs. experimental part, the ‘82 partners part, of which 12 have been of one kind and 70 of the other’ seems to have gone over her head. [Not that that bothers me, just that the language used to describe it was, as I said, pretty salty, and it isn't the kind of thing that need to be elaborated on around kids {and did I mention that there were lots of other kids in this group?}]) Impera noticed that “They smoke a lot!” (True, but not all of it was straight tobacco, chickie…).

So, how can I spin this into a positive, you ask? Well, 1) we are pretty confident we won’t be going camping with these folks again, 2) We all slept very well last night, 3) The weather was perfect while we camped (it wasn’t humid during the day, and it cooled down beautifully at night), and 4) We took the dog with us, let her run off-leash when we were down at the lake shore, and she had a BLAST.

But she’s still recuperating from all the fun: