The Day I Brought My Baby Home…. Part 1

Well… almost. I’d have to say that the first round was a false alarm – the Braxton-Hicks of RV purchasing. You know how it is, you’ve been planning it for months, you’ve done your research, you’ve bought lots of exciting gizmos accoutrements to prepare for the big arrival that will change your life, and then FINALLY the moment comes! Yippeee! It’s time!! YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYAAAAUUUURRRGGHHHHH!!!


In my case, I had made an appointment with my great friend and neighbor Dan Hoye to come with me to pick up my new baby. I didn’t want to go alone to experience a birthing of this magnitude, and to me, there was no one better to be my coach. Wagons ho!

We drove the hour and half or so to get to the RV dealer. Why the dealers are always a zillion miles from civilization I don’t know (maybe they’re trying to get you used to long distant travel and wide open fields, just so you know what you’re getting yourselves into), so I admit I felt rather lucky that we only had to drive the hour and a half. I mean, it could have been three hours. Or for some people in Texas, it could have been 22 hours. RV people are EXCITED about getting their babies!

So for the record, when you don’t get them, it’s PISSY-MAKING.

SHAZAMI’ll back up a bit. I had already been up to the dealership a couple months prior to buying my RV. I had done lots of research, and had decided on the make and model I wanted; it was just a question of finding one available and at the price I wanted to pay. In reality I made it rather easy for the 14-year-old sales person who was helping me with my magnificent purchase. He didn’t have to do much of anything except show me to my darling and walk me through him (yeah, my RV is a HIM, not a “her”. He’s really foxy, too. His name is SHAZAM!. Wait till I cover him in fairly lights!!). Not to mention, I had I chosen the ideal day: it was pouring with rain. At least I didn’t have to worry about checking for leaks!

All the paperwork was done, my baby was paid for. It was just a question of getting back up there to take delivery and have my hitch installed so I could carefully and safely sling my handsome beast around the country behind me.

At least… that’s what I thought.

The day at last dawned and Dan – who had taken time off work to accompany me on this epic journey – and I gleefully and eagerly motored our way up to the dealership, naturally belting out Michael Jackson songs all the way (at least I was. Can’t say the same for Dan. But I was driving, after all). It was a beautiful day. Amazing because it was the middle of July in Ohio, but we were experiencing an unusually cool summer this year, so the windows were open, the music was streaming out, the flies were blowing in, and our fellow travelers were giving us a wide berth.



We got there well enough, and everything seemed to be going well. They were having a nice little tent sale, and as we were waiting for them to prep SHAZAM! and install my hitch, we wandered around the tent amusing ourselves and feeling smug. I even found a brand new RV cover for only $50. Score!

And then, they came to find me. Apparently there was – gasp! – a problem. Yeah, there was a problem… rrrggggghhh. They said I didn’t have a hitch installed on my truck. Which, of course, I didn’t. Wasn’t that what the extra $500 on my bill declaring “hitch installation” was all about? Did I not tell them very clearly that I did not have a hitch on my truck and oh by the way come over and look at it and see that I don’t and therefore need you to install it for an extra $500? Did I not SAY that to the 14-year-old salesperson a month ago? Hm? HMMMM????

The right answer you rotten little scrappy bastard was “yes”. The actual answer was “oh crap, I’m so sorry Ms. Skomp, but there must have been miscommunication and we are planning to install an Equalizer hitch which is a completely different animal and basically we don’t install the undercarriage hitch so you’ll need to do that yourself and I really don’t remember all this since I only get paid $8 an hour and I have to work six days a week and I really just want to play xbox rather than be here doing all this stuff they call ‘earning a living’ and I’m so tired and there really isn’t anything I can do so basically you’re screwed and are going to have to come back another day once you’ve gotten a class A hitch installed on your own at an additional $450 that you weren’t planning on. Soz.”

Super. So in spite of frenzied and animated middlefinger-pointing, I had to bid my handsome lover beast (yes, he grew up a lot in that parking lot, as did we all) a tearful goodbye and wheel home without him. Dan and I were crying uncontrollably despondent. However, our despondency did not preclude us from continuing on with our original plans of feasting at Dirty Franks afterwards on delicious hot dogs and crates of beer, so we made tracks forthwith to drown our sorrows.



Now. Where did that leave me? Oh yes… I had to get a class A hitch installed. Fun times ahead! Especially since I had timed all these events down to the last millisecond in preparation for my maiden voyage the following weekend to attend one of my closest friends’ spectacular wedding. I had been bragging, naturally, about SHAZAM! for weeks – how humiliating would it be if I had to turn up with a tent? I mean, the forthcoming weekend wasn’t all about my friend’s gorgeous wedding now, was it? It was all about me and my heavenly new RV lover!

I swear, the Universe just plays with my heart, I tell ya.

And on that note… for the rest of the story you’ll have to wait until next time. BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAaaaaaaaa……!!!



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