It was in the last days of my second season as a camp host when I went to the group campground to check in the astronomy club staying there for the weekend. When I asked around, I was told the person who’d made the reservation had not yet arrived. A nice guy in my age group offered to sign the permit, so I wrote down his address and other pertinent information.
I meant to give him a fire permit too, so using their camp stoves would be legal, but I realized hours later that I’d forgotten to do so.
The next morning when I went back to the group campground, I had the fire permit ready for the same guy to sign. I’d simply copied the man’s address from the camping permit onto the fire permit. When I found the man and asked him to sign the permit, he jokingly asked if I’d memorized his address.
I explained I’d copied his address from the camping permit. Then he asked if I planned to visit.
I began to wonder if the man was flirting with me. Men never flirt with me, so I’m not sure I could recognize flirting if it actually happened. His being in my age group made flirting more probable, but I decided he was just being friendly.
I told him I couldn’t visit because I didn’t even know where his town was.
It’s in Santa Cruz County, he told me. We have a big organic farm. You could park your van on our farm.
(I don’t know exactly who the other people included in his “we” were.)
I made a bland comment about it must be nice to live on a farm. Then I said, Do you grow…?
I meant to end the sentence with something clever, but nothing clever came to mind. (That’s what I get for I opening my mouth with no plan on how to end what I’ve already started to say.) Instead of ending the sentence with something at least reasonable, if not clever (beets? pumpkins?) I simply let the sentence hang there unfinished.
Then I realized, Santa Cruz County and Do you grow? when taken together have a definite marijuana connotation. What if he thought I was asking if they grew weed on the organic farm?
I’d never ask a stranger if he grew pot. It seems like a rude question, even in California, seeing how marijuana is federally illegal and all. It’s none of my business if someone is growing weed. It’s safer for everyone to keep marijuana cultivation on a need to know basis, and I don’t need to know!
I’m not sure if the man recognized my awkwardness. He started talking about the zucchini he and whoever else lives on the farm grows. He told me all about the big, big zucchini.
Any flirting that may have been going on was entirely incompetent.
Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/houses-in-farm-against-cloudy-sky-248880/.
Haha. Love your blog and humor
Thanks for letting me know you enjoy my blog and my sense of humor. It means a lot to me when readers take the time to let me know they like what I’m doing.
Incompetent flirting would be if he showed you the zucchini. I am clueless about flirting myself, and successful flirting has to be pretty brazen.
I wasn’t sure if this was a situation where a zucchini was just a zucchini! I was glad he didn’t try to show me anything!