Not so very long ago, we stayed in one of those RV parks.
You know the type.
The age-restricted kind with so many rules that you quit reading after about the 5th one, and decide that just being a good person for the duration of your stay will probably cover most of them anyway?
When we checked in at this park, we received a packet that contained a list of 25 rules on an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper, single spaced, small font, both sides. Rule 15, dealing with the laundry room, also had subsections a-f.
I know.
And there were a few additional rules on the park map.
And even more rules printed on signs scattered about the property.
And don’t get me started on the club house. Let’s just say that not everybody should be allowed access to a label maker, printer, or even paper and a Sharpie. Especially people of a certain age, with a lot of time on their hands.
(If you’re humming, “Do this. Don’t do that. Can’t you read the sign?” you’re not alone.)
So being possessed of a deliciously sideways sense of humor, I decided to have a little bit of fun during our stay in the Land of Many Rules.
OK, a lot of fun.
To be clear, I was not on a mission to break the rules. They’re there for a reason. I get it.
I just thought I could give those fine folks cause to come up with a few more they mmmaybe hadn’t thought of.
Yet.
Remarkably.
Nothing says I have to wear a shirt over my sports bra.
And furthermore, nothing says that the shirt I do wear over my sports bra can’t be a brow-raiser.
(Relax. I’m a breast cancer survivor, and my right “pear,” although still original, is no longer perfect. I bought this shirt as a reminder to keep my sense of humor about it.)
Like most of the women here, I’ve got gray hair, despite my being a decade or two younger. There was no rule against hair dye, so why not go bold for a few washes?
Okay, so most of the men I encountered in the park were old enough to be my dad, so I really couldn’t be a cougar there.
But Tim, at 51, could totally have been cougar bait!
Mrowrrrr
It would have fit on there a 5th time, and I’m pretty sure instructions need to be repeated five times before they require obedience. Law of the teenager. Right?
We were allowed to use the community clothesline. They didn’t specify what we were allowed to use it for.
“No walking on the site dividers” was not a rule.
I checked.
And then I did it.
The park featured a community herb garden — and no sign specifying what could or could not be planted there.
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and… Wait. Is that what I think it is?
Who among us has never stripped off a dirty item of clothing and tossed it directly into the washing machine? It’s a time saver. And there was no rule posted against it in the park laundry room.
Attempt 10: Run with scissors!
It’s a pole. Poles are for dancing. Didn’t everybody know that?
If all else fails, amend the Standing Rules yourself.
(For those with eyes that need a little help, click on the photo to enlarge it.)
Disclosure 1: Neither one of us is over 55. We were able to get a guest spot for a limited time.
Disclosure 2: Park name and location have been withheld to protect the… well… a park that’s really quite nice, and I know that it’s because of a lot of those rules. I’m pretty sure they can take a little ribbing, but just in case they can’t, I’ll keep their identity under wraps. We’d like to be able to stay there again.
Disclosure 3: Photos originally appeared on the author’s personal Facebook and Instagram accounts, and I give thanks to my partners in crime. They know who they are.
Bylaws are always so boring.
Might as well amend those too.
