All my life I’d lived in a giant sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers, flashing neon, and asphalt highways. Most days were spent either at my apartment or my office or somewhere between the two. However, I’d always dreamed of open skies and wide spaces. So when a friend of mine invited me to go camping, I jumped at the chance.
My parents had never been the outdoors type. The most time I’d spent outside as a child revolved around the spinning wheel at the elementary school playground. As an adult, I was too embarrassed to admit to my friend that I’d never camped in my life. Determined to camouflage my inexperience, I loaded my truck with a self inflating tent, copious quantities of trail mix, and a case of water. I looked forward to learning my way around the campfire over the next few days.
Unfortunately, the weekend away didn’t include the mosquito repellent I’d forgotten to pack or bathroom facilities. I did learn that poison ivy makes lousy toilet paper. When I returned home, I kissed the plaster walls of my tiny apartment, had a long soak in the tub, and thanked the gods for calamine lotion.