Two things happen when you live in an RV.
One: nobody knocks.
Two: everyone honks.
The day I moved into the RV was the day I apparently gave up the right to have my door knocked on.
The first time it happened, I stayed rooted to my chair sulking in the indignity of being honked at. But their honking persistance eroded my resolve and I finally emerged from the trailer in a sort of, “WHAT DO YOU NEED?” air.
It’s happened so many times from varying individuals (delivery people, Cowboy Joe the lawn-mower guy, the folks doing work on the shed, the mail lady) that today when the guy delivered the lawn mower, I was booted up and ready to go outside when he pulled in. He still managed to get a “beep” off before I could show my face.
It’s a luxury you give up in fulltime #rvlife. Consider yourself warned. If you ever decide to do this, you’ll have to buy septic tank chemicals, shower with 10 gallons of hot water and give up the right to have your door knocked.
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