I got my money from those I checked in, but I still think He Who shorted himself on his collections. The women in this clan are bossier than me ..... and that is quite an accomplishment.
As closing time approached, I snuck away to the restrooms to restock with paper product and give them a quick sweep. I scrub them in the mornings. I opened the door to the ladies' room and gagged. The trash can conveniently located next to the sink to receive the paper towels after handwashing was overflowing. With GARBAGE. Not trash, but all manner of garbage. Thinking this to be the source of the odor, I grabbed trashcan liners and went to work. The paper towels were still full, as handwashing seems to be something this clan was not apt to do. The sink had food residue in it, though. I got the trashcan cleaned up, but there remained an odor I just could not place.
I opened the stall to the toilet and discovered another problem. that trash can was also full and there was no toilet paper. As I bent to empty the small trash can located right next to the toilet for convenience, I found another source of odor. I know that young ladies of today are more open about bodily functions than in my day, but discretion is not a bad thing. The whole world does not need to be privy to your particular moments in life. There were used tampons behind the toilet, stuck to the floor. Yes, I had to clean it up. Who else was going to do it. See what I mean about earning every cent of that money?
After that, I restocked the men's room, having an unpleasant encounter with the Rip Van Winkle in a drunken stupor as I put the toilet paper on the dispenser. Another gag and I locked up, scoured my hands and brushed my teeth. Took my sweet canines out for a little Frisbee in the back yard, then we went to bed.
I awoke quite early on Saturday. I gathered my tools, the mop, the bleach, the bucket, the bleach, and more bleach. I headed to the rest rooms. No coffee as yet, did not want it to come back up. First I lifted the seat and lids to the toilets and doused them in bleach. I have nice cushy rubber mats on which to stand in the showers. They are easily removed and can be washed on the sidewalk with detergent and a hose. Instead I doused them in bleach, as well. I grabbed the hose and pulled it into the shower stall and sprayed everything down with bleach and water. The sink was also bleached and then the floor. Hours later, I could still smell bleach in my nose!
Hours later a little girl came to tell me my soda machine did not work. Upon inspection of the machine as I tried to insert the key to unlock it, I saw that someone had tried to break into the machine. They didn't make it, but I could not get the key to work and as I tried to turn harder, it zapped me. I have no idea what they used to try to wrench the lock handle out, but from the looks of the gouges and turns, they were serious.
All day long they plagued my very existence. They bought everything one item at a time. The door was not still all day. I finally escaped around 5 and made a quick run to WalMart. Tragedy of tragedies ..... we were out of Pringles! I don't know what the deal is around here, but these folk sure do love them some Pringles. When I pulled in the parking lot and close to the office door to unload, a group was waiting for the Pringles! They bought some before I could even get them in the door!
I am not a fan of the cardboard chips myself. It would be something to eat only after everything else was gone and I was starving.
It is Sunday, the most wonderful day of the week. I snuck out to my gardens after I cleaned the restrooms again. I powdered my beans with Sevin dust and cut some okra off the stalks, pulled a good handful of weeds and just enjoyed the solitude. I planted corn, but most of it is withered and pitiful. I like to plant several rows of corn in my raised beds for several reasons. I like to eat it, of coarse, but I like to hide in between the rows, so that campers don't see me. The stalks provide a good tall stake for the beans to climb, too.
As my coffee buddies and I drank the brew and gossiped, we watched the undesirables prepare to leave. As we all know, He Who does not like confrontations. Today was an exception. He went over and told them they were not welcome back to our park. The elderly patriarch wanted to know why. My husband told him to just look around at all the trash on the grounds and went on to tell him the bathrooms were disgusting and that they had not been honest about the number of people they had with them. The man, who happened to be one of three white people with some black folks, some who appeared to be of Mexican descent, and some who looked Cajun, looked at my husband and said, "It's because they are black!"
No, it is not because they are black, or brown or yellow or red. It is because they are disrespectful, lazy, nasty and disregard others. It is because through some great feat of strength two of the pool chairs had the backs completely broken off. It is because they left a trail of trash and garbage in their wake. It is because they lied blatantly about how many people were camping in that spot. It is because two of the women tried to intimidate me with arguments that would have netted them a sit for half price.
They left, pulling the travel trailer with a truck and not enough space for all the people to ride, so some rode in the trailer. Safety, along with decency and cleanliness did not seem to be something they worried about.
3 comments:
I hope you keep a list by the phone, and check it twice.
I am exhausted just reading about your day. This is why my husband and I are not spending our golden years living off rental property. People are takers and trashers these days. We had a duplex for a couple of years. Both sides rented. The money paid the payment, and for repairs. Unfortunately, there were too many repairs for the people with three kids, who somehow managed to not only stop paying rent, but put holes in the walls. Which, I might add, were decorated with crayon artwork from not very talented, not very old, artists. The other renter was just an alcoholic, who dropped a cast-iron pan of grease and burned a hole in the carpet, which she covered with a throw rug, then confessed with boozy regret. She was good people.
Okay, so it's time you wrote a book about your experiences with the campground crazies. This one was over the top!
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