Mistaken Identity

Funny story. Friday night, we checked into our campground in Thorntown, and I went about the business of hooking up the water and power. There was a couple in the slot next to ours, and when they saw me we exchanged waves. After that, I went back into the RV and got on line so I could update the website.

Meanwhile, The G Man, who is driving us to the finish line, went next door and, being a gregarious sort, started chatting with these folks. The G Man attempts to make friends with almost everyone we meet, and most people seem to like him. These folks appear to be enjoying his banter, so I’m not surprised when he comes back after about half an hour and tells me that we’ve been invited to go into town and eat dinner with his new friends.

If you’ve been a faithful reviewer of these chronicles, you should have at least a vague idea about some of my social issues by now. As they apply in this case, I don’t really warm to new people, and I would never – under any circumstances – go out to dinner with people I don’t know, so I ask The G Man to thank these people for the invitation and go on ahead, and I offer some vague promise of joining them for a beer when they get back.

They leave, I finish with the web site, shower, get dressed, and enjoy a beer and a cigar at a picnic table just outside the RV. After a couple of hours, The G Man returns with his new comrades and reminds me of my promise to join the group for a beer, so we head next door. Turns out these folks are very nice, and a good time is had by all.

But here’s the kicker. After several rounds of drinks, our new friends inform me that while they admire what I’m doing (they, like many other campers we’ve met, made a cash donation), they had been unaware of The Wish Walk. They further revealed that when they saw me wandering around in my yellow highway vest (which, by the way, is mandatory attire when you’re walking the highways) and Stewie Griffin pajama bottoms (which are not), they assumed that I was a mentally challenged person that had been trained to handle a few menial tasks and thought The G Man was my guardian.

I make quite a first impression.

Sunday’s Journey: None

Mileage: None

On the iPod: Nothing