This might be a repost but it’s been 7 YEARS and I’m still thinking about this all: 

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I had posted before about something equally as embarrassing, hereafter referred to as scaring the postman, (which I’m also still not over), hence the other embarrassing flashback.

The last time I went camping with my mum and sister, we upgraded a little and rented a camper van. We were staying in a field in the middle of nowhere which was usually popular for camping but was empty when we arrived. Because it was actually the middle of nowhere, when it got dark, it got really dark; no street lamps or houses or anything. What was all trees and fields and quaint British prettiness became all sinister and dark and what is making that sound, meaning that running from the camper van to the little bathroom block in the dark was not so fun, and when I had to go in the middle of the night, I sprinted there and back as quickly as possible without stopping on the way.
Mum had already hissed at me to keep it down in case any other camping people arrived during the night, so after hurtling back to the camper I very gently just rattle rattle rattled the door handle so they’d know to let me in.

No answer. I carefully tried again, squuueeeaaaking the door handle.

Still nothing. I scurried around the other side to call in, and since it was the middle of the night and I didn’t know if anyone else had arrived and was sleeping nearby, I just did a very small “hellLLOOOooooOOOoo!” through the window. Nothing.

I waited for a few minutes, and then, getting quite annoyed, I ran back round to the other side and scraped my fingernails very gently down that window, making a “sSScccCCCreeeEEccHHH” sound, (to considerately see whether my sister was awake), with an impatient “I know you’re in there!”

That’s when I realised it wasn’t our van.

Because it was so dark, I had spooked myself when I ran to the bathroom (naturally), got confused, and came out of the wrong side of the block, where the only other camper van in the whole field had been parked out of sight of us.

These poor people had been woken in the middle of the night, in the pitch black woods out in nowhere, by somebody softly rattle rattling on the door handle, followed by a scurrying round the van and an unknown voice whispering “HHheeellLLOOOooooOOOoo…” through the window. They had huddled, holding their breath, waiting for any further noises, listening to the wind in the trees of this deserted place, and had then heard a “scccCCCreeeEEccHHH” of fingernails down the opposite window and the unknown voice menacingly declaring “I know you’re in there…“.

This was followed by a small “squee!” sound (me realising my mistake) and a pat pat pat of retreating feet.

As if their night couldn’t get any worse, my mum and sister made the same mistake.

These poor people, if they’d actually managed to get back to sleep, were woken several times during the course of the night by a rattle rattle rattle, and little “hellooooooooo…”s and “let me innnn”s through the window, courtesy of mum & sister.

If you’re thinking, perhaps they slept through it, maybe they didn’t hear us, perhaps we didn’t scare them at all: the next morning as we drove away they were watching us go through a crack in their curtains.

I can just picture it: “Martin! Look! Those weirdos are finally  leaving!”

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2 thoughts on “still embarrassed about The Camping Incident

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