Ground control to major dork.
I think I am officially the most law-abiding citizen in the world.
I have been sleeping in my van since Thursday, camped by the beach and serene as a clam. I have also been filthy as a fucking hobo, encrusted as I am in four days worth of Apollo Bay sand and the finest layer of dog hair*. Yesterday it all became slightly overwhelming, particularly for anyone who was forced to sit next to me in a cafe for longer than thirty seconds.
I NEEDED TO WASH.
I had been for approximately one (1) swim since arriving and had found it most refreshing. That I was forced to stand under a hand dryer for three hours post-splash in a vain effort to unfreeze my brain was inconsequential. The fact is, I needed a HOT shower with HOT running water and a PROPER NAKED WASH, not just standing in my bathers next to the public toilets with blue skin and a loofah.
There was a hot shower in the rec reserve caravan park. I was not camping there. DID I DARE BUST IN AND STEAL THEIR HOT WATER.
That I even spent almost the entire yesterday debating this in my head is testament to how much of a law-abiding nerd I am. I don't even know if it's actually illegal to go shower in a caravan park where you're not staying. I kept having these awful visions of some meaty-armed manlady bursting in on my fervent scrubbing and hauling me out onto the cooch grass in front of an accusing crowd of 'residentials'.
The whole time I walked to the caravan park I debated whether to just present myself at reception and announce my intentions, offering them a few dollars or my first-born daughter in exchange for their fine, upstanding product. But what if they said no? I'd be looked at like a crusty feral, a fire twirler, and sent back to my van in grimy disgrace.
I planned what I'd say if I got caught. I could fake tears. Offer bribes. Draw myself up to my full height and ask them if they knew I was partially responsible for some of the finest c-grade television this nation had to offer.
In the end I snuck in, Bob Ellis kept watch at the door, and I showered and left.
It felt good.
I'm really not cut out for brushes with the law.
586 days til the next election.
*this of course once belonged to my dog. I am not morphing into a Staffordshire Bull Terrier by the light of the moon AND I RAIL AT YOUR SUGGESTING OTHERWISE.
Comments
Rather than "residentials", I prefer to call them "perms".
I hope you are feeling cleaner/better.
We find when camping that Caravan park owners are generally happy to let us pay $2-3 for a shower. Maybe I am less afraid of rejection when I am filthy?
UNCLEAN!
CLEAN!
and not cut out for a life of crime.
yeh, me either.
The indignity of being mistaken for a fire twirler is unfathomable. No wonder you were nervous.
I am always envious of people who can act with bravado with regard petty crimes. I have an aunt who is particularly incorrigible ... she is the type of person who would not only use the facilities, but ask for some soap and shampoo first ... and the weird thing is, it always works ... people will go out of their way to accomodate her.
Dear Ms Fits,
You should
A. Go to the pub at the end of town that has a backpackers and ask for a shower. In return you could promise to sink piss there all afternoon.
B. Ask the surf life saving club for a shower. I'm sure you could work out some payment scheme.
C. Go the caravan park option. I actually laid the tile in that shower block and the owners are very nice.
D. Go to Sandy Feet Cafe where you would be right at home with the fire twirlers. They have wicked food, a good selection of papers, and your stink wouldn't be noticed.
E. Have an o'natural shower up at Mariner's Falls.
F. Hang out at the port to see if you get any offers. (for a shower that is).
G. Jump onto a balcony of one of those swanky units and have a spa.
H. All of the above.
PS Are you doing research for a Sea Change meets Hip Urban folk television series. If so, can I play the lead role.
I have a question for Friday:
Are you unhappy?
No, she's Ms Fits. unhappy hasn't blogged for years.
*skips away*
dear cleaner ms fits
you have answered one of my friday questions which is nice.
on and "meaty armed manlady" was nice too.
water should be a public resource, regardless of who owns the 'facilities' (i admit this argument could become tenuous when it comes to private homes, but it works for caravan parks, ok?)
so shower away, ms fits. not for too long though. conservation and all.
and i too hope you're feeling better.
That's a novel idea: someone who wants to have a shower at a caravan park.
make that meaty-armed, not meaty and with guns
i'm usually well on top of punctuation.
That's how it always starts. Stealing hot showers, then you move on to mints from the milk bar and before you know it, you're Tony Mokbel.
Does that mean Ms Fits will be dating Naomi Robson in about 5 years?
I CERTAINLY HOPE SO.
Dear Ms Fits,
It's all starting to come together. Television writer, at the beach, crime, cafes, dogs, personal hygeine.
I should probably reserve this for Friday QA, but my question is this:
Is Detective Peter Baker from Home and Away the dumbest cop in the world?
In the end I snuck in, Bob Ellis kept watch at the door, and I showered and left.
if i didn't know you were talking about the dog i'd think you were relaying a sex dream.
something to ponder...
Ms Fits,
You should go out with Naomi Robson.
A quick google search shows you two have so much in common.
I mean, you both work in TV and use naughty words all the time.
It would be a perfect partnership. You could write the autocue, and Naomi could fucking, shit, dickhead, fucking read it.
I lived out of the saddlebags on my motorcycle for a few years. Finding a hot shower was manna from heaven. Caravan park ops don't normally mind if you nick a bath or three.
Truckstops, on the other hand, want anywhere between $5-10 for a shower. Worse, you often stand a good chance of amorous advances from a guy who smells like he's been swimming in diesel fuel, cat piss and bovine exhaust, just while you're trying to rinse off your shampoo.
I finally invested in a 'porta-shower.' It was a handheld shower wand on a short hose attached to a black plastic bag, which you would fill with water and hang from a tree in the sun for a couple of hours. Voila, guilt-free, portable hot shower which you can roll up & stuff in your backpack.
yeah, but it was raining and overcast almost the entire time I was away. How would my precious shower water have warmed itself? HOW?
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