Hot Moms

I'll post pictures when I get home The people who are camping behind us are obsessed with their roped-off area. And we are obsessed with them. When you arrive at Pismo, or any campground that doesn’t have assigned camping areas, you find a place you want to camp and stake your claim. If there’s a lot of room or you aren’t going to be outside much, you don’t care. If you are waiting for more people in your party to show up, have motorcycles or want to sit outside to watch the waves and have a campfire, it’s common to put caution tape or some kind of delineators around the area you will need, even park the quads on the corners of your space. This weekend is really crowded. Capacity. Weekend before the three day weekend 4th of July. People are coming in to spend the week and the two weekends. So there are these folks from Grass Valley, and there are five trailers and motorhomes. They’re in about one hundred feet from high tide and they’ve been here for a few days. They parked all their trailers right next to each other and have tarps and blankets between each one. When we arrive on Friday morning we find that the beach is almost full, there are hardly any good spots left. Well, we hate to do it, but we pulled up between high tide mark and their trailers. So, we’re blocking the view of one trailers, but certainly not all five. As we’re pulling one of the women pop their head of out of their trailer and say, “Ahh, those are cute dogs. Oh, are you guys going to stay there?” I said yes and she said “Thanks a lot!” and slammed the window shut. That was the most excellent welcome we’ve received in Pismo so far. It’s Friday morning and we are unloading the quads from the back of the trailer, Fred, Katie and I. We’re setting up our chairs and putting our furniture down from the walls of our trailer. All of the sudden we see these women from the camp come charging around the corner with stakes, caution tape, and big plastic cups filled with some kind of colorful beverage. Now, there is 75 feet of room between our trailer and theirs. They set up their boundaries about 25 feet away from our trailer. The front of our trailer, where our awning, chairs and barbecue are. Where we are going to have our campfire. This is 50 feet behind their trailer were they have nothing. Nothing set up at all. So the three of us just stand there and watch them doing all this. And they are MAD. Fred said good morning and they wouldn’t look or talk to us. So he ambled over to the men and found out that it’s their first trip to Pismo Beach and they didn’t know they should park closer to the water. Obviously their wives wanted to be on the beach and are upset about it but they aren’t going to move, which they could have, so too bad. Oh, and they all are “hot moms.” They have bikini tops with miniskirts over the bottoms. They have extensions and big sunnies. Their children are dressed similarly and are helping them secure the area. The husbands are not having any part of this, staying around the front of their trailers, smoking and working on their quads. And the area in front of their trailers is 300 feet by 150 feet with three separate tracks in the sand so the kids can ride their quads within their “area.” So, whatever. We know that if nothing else, we’re in for an interesting weekend. We’ve seen this before, campers obsessed with their areas, and like giant ant hill, its fun for the rest of us to watch them get knocked down and build again. Happily, as you will see, they didn’t disappoint. We rode our quads, enjoyed the sun and water, ate and visited and waited for Stephanie and Aaron to get there in the evening. Now, all day long, trailers and motorhomes have been streaming in to spend the weekend or the week. If they don’t stay along the beach (which strangely they don’t all like to do) they drive along until they find the paths between the camps so they can drive in to the softer sand nearer the dunes. They usually slow down or stop to check out the situation before turning into the soft sand where they have to drive their motorhome as fast as it will go, coffee cups and beer bottles rattling as they hope to stay up on top of the sand before they start digging in and have to get towed to where the rest of their camping party is. Well, any poor sucker who happened to slow down or, God forbid, stop to get reconnoitered before turning off the hard packed beach and barreling up the soft sand was immediately yelled at by the group behind us. As afternoon came, they were sitting in their sand chairs drinking more cocktails in those giant Big Lots cups. One of them would even stand up and take a couple steps forward just to yell “MOVE IT” at the campers who weren’t even staying there. One woman got out of her truck and pointed his finger at her and said, “Shut up and calm down. We’re not even staying here.” At this point we were telling the people who would pull up close enough to come on and park right where they were. Finally a family with two cars pulled up and asked if they could stay here. Yes, oh yes, please do. Out jumps 14 people from the two cars. Six adults and eight children. Four tents, tarps, giant acrylic blankets, two toddlers and a four-month old teeny tiny Chihuahua named Tipsy (one leg longer than the other). The hot moms jump up and start moving the caution tape farther away from their camp, almost touching the people’s tents! Stephanie and Aaron were just pulling in and the head hot mom ran over to her asking if she is staying. At this point, Fred has had it. He goes over and says, “You had the chance to move closer. These guys are going to camp here. You keep moving your tape closer and closer until I’m gonna have five feet to move around in.” She threw up her hands and turned away. When that hubbub all died down, we saw that in front of our car there’s a guy with his wife parking in front of us with their tent! Under the radar? Jackpot! The hot moms were outnumbered now. It was getting cold and their Juicy tracksuits weren’t keeping them warm anymore. They went in. Fred went over and made friends with them also. Then the new guy took HIS caution tape and rope ALL of us new folks off so that when the hot moms wanted to take their kids to the beach they had to walk all the way around. Priceless. So the rest of the weekend was nice and everyone got along, however none of us were invited to hang out at the cool kids’ table. Now it’s Sunday afternoon and we’re all packing up to go. Both tent folks on each side of us are gone and the hot moms are prowling. They’ve brought their cars around to park where the tents used to be. They thought that up all weekend. Then up pulls a Ford Excursion like ours with a trailer like ours and even has a boxer like ours! A quick check of his license plate shows that he’s a firefighter. Out jumps a guy who could be one of my cousins, Keith or Jimmy Lewis. Katie walks over to him and starts telling him about the mean neighbor. He crosses his arms and wants to hear the whole story. By the time Fred and I walk over, he’s staying. The Hot Moms weren’t prepared! The sent a teenaged daughter….”you can’t stay here; we need to have it clear to the water.” He says, “How old are you? Where are your parents? You can’t talk to me like that. Go get an adult.” But they must have been having a wardrobe malfunction because they didn’t come out. Dig this: We pulled our trailer out as he pulled his trailer IN. OUR. TRACKS. The head Hot Mom pops her head out of her trailer like a jack-in-the-box and pops it back in. The men are dispatched this time. We’re clearly breaking their rules. They had to come over because they were the men from the cool table, but luckily they had just enough testosterone left over from their last ride in the dunes to bond with the firefighter. They all wanna be in the brotherhood, don’t they? So we finished loading, basking in our good fortune. I wanted to do something mean, but they had the corner on that. Serendipitous.