Driving home from Brattleboro this morning, I looked over into a new and used camper dealer and saw my dream camper. Maria was recovering from food poisoning but I asked if I could pull over and take a peek. Sure, she gasped and fell asleep.

I loved this camper and would buy it in a heartbeat if I had any money. And I have to be honest, I have never gone camping, not once in my entire life that I remember (there are reports of my going camping once with my family when I was very young,  legend has it that i hated the bugs, snakes, coyotes and other wild things of the night and refused to go again.)

And Maria is sure that I would hate camping. I don’t like chairs with soft backs, being bitten by bugs, sleeping in confined spaces, eating out of cans I buy at the supermarket. I get cold outside, my back hurts, I have allergies, I hate humidity or getting rained on.

And I’m  not great at socializing with strangers or making small talk. I talk with Maria, a few friends, and some of the people who inhabit my universe online.

Why do I want this camper so badly? Maybe because I can’t afford it, maybe because I know I’ll never buy it, maybe because it stirs up the romantic me – get in the truck with my girl and set out to see the country, just like John Steinbeck and his dog. I like the sound of that.

I do fantasize about saying to Maria, “hey let’s get in the camper and drive to the top of a mountain in Vermont, and bring some wind and pick up some sandwiches and light some candles and wrap ourselves in blankets out under the stars, and sit out talking to the moon all night. Fate and Red can come.”

I told Maria about this fantasy, she replied, amid many groans of discomfort from her food poisoning.

“Really?,” she scoffed, “you would hate it. The truck would be slow,  and need constant repairs you can’t make, the bed is too small for your long legs, the air too dank and musty, the refrigerator too small, there would be bugs all over you, and stifling heat or freezing cold. You would be at the total mercy of the camper lot owner, and there would be lots of noise – people fighting, drinking, kids screaming, dogs barking.  There would be all kinds of strangers eager to talk with you and sit by your fire, and no good food to eat unless we drove to  a restaurant. And after two minutes of looking at the stars, you would be bored out of  your mind and want to go hook up the internet and blog.”

All right, I said, mumbling, “but—”

There are no buts, she said, “you would hate it.”

The woman speaks some truth. I don’t romanticize it…still, if we were flexible, there’s a way to make it work. Like avoiding campgrounds and taking short treks.I peeked inside this truck/camper and it didn’t look too tight for me, the bed was pretty big.

Besides, Maria added, it would cost at least $30,000.” Maybe we could lease it, I suggested. Think of the spontaneity we could have. At any time, we could just jump into the camper and take off.

Maria seems to know about such things.

I was taken aback, it seemed like such a romantic idea, and Maria is a bigger romantic than I am, she never walks away from romantic ideas.

Okay, I said, you’re not feeling well. It wouldn’t hurt to call tomorrow and just get the price, I mumbled. Summer is coming on, and I’d love to see that sweet old camper in my driveway. Just in case we ever did want to go out into the woods and camp.

You never know, I told Maria. I never imagined I’d be living with donkeys and sheep either. Or with somebody like you.

She fell asleep.