SMOKING HAMS

Jackie went into the office of the RV park here in Fort Davis, TX to register for our evenings stay.  I watched from the drivers seat as she and the owner walked from the office to the spot we were assigned.  Although I wasn't able to hear the verbal exchange between them I could pretty much understand that good energy was not exactly the order of the moment. He was pointing this way and that and Jackie was arm and finger gesturing in an opposing manner. Walking back to the rig I can read her body language and it's a bit like a popping pressure gauge on a pressure cooker.  Back in the rig she tells me she didn't like the guy, which was abundantly clear from my vantage point.

He began swinging his arm, windmill fashion, signaling me to pull forward to our designated spot.  The location was crappy for us but easy for him.  Since we were the only RV in his little park he slid us into a no vista, easy in-easy out, transient spot.

Understand, the fellow isn't a bad guy, but he had a bad attitude and had ruffled my ladies feathers.  Naturally I felt obliged to avenge her honor.

His arm swinging became more forceful bespeaking his urgency to have this docking over and done with quickly.....so I stalled, fiddling with the keys and adjusting the seat, all the while smiling at him with my big dumb ass grin. 

I inched toward him at a snails pace watching his temperature rise and agitation become more pronounced.  I know this is not the way to handle a given situation but I'm in a get-even mode and he's taking the bait.  I pull half way up into the spot, 10 foot away from where he wants me to park, stop the rig and get out.  Now he's really foot-stomping pissed, I didn't follow "his" directions and I'm just another dumb, stupid old RV driver he has to deal with.  This guy really could use a refresher course in customer relations.

I stroll up next to him with my dumb RV smile and ask if I can park it here, "NO!" he stifles a shout and tells me I missed the spot by 10 foot.  To increase his agitation, I smile and ask if it's as flat 10 foot forward as it is here.  "Pull this thing forward, I can't stand here all day,"  his face muscles beginning to twitch.  I figure I can take him up a few more degrees before he blows, so I ask, "Hows the water here?"  He studders, "Hell, this is an RV park, do you think I'd have *bad* water"  "I mean, is it sweet water,"  I ask, flashing him another dumb ass smile.  His mouth is open and lips moving but words fail him. When his arms went straight up signaling I had scored a field goal, and we were back to a tie game,  I extend my hand and say, "I'm Boyd, what's your name, mighty fine place you have here, I'll pull'er up a little like you say and I sure do thank you for the help, I don't think I could have done it without you."  He walked away, shaking his head, and probably thinking, "Ain't nobody in this world got brains but me?"

I shuffled over to him later after we were set-up, making sure to maintain my dumb-ass, Step and Fetchit posture, smoked his hams a little and got him to laughing about old times when he and his dad worked the hills with horses.