Are we too young for Mesa?

With the temperature sticking in the high 90's until at least the middle of next week, we decided to opt for an RV park in Phoenix instead of dry camping at the Lone Butte Casino. There is just no way we can leave the dogs for any amount of time to visit non-dog-friendly places without having the power for air conditioning.

I looked through the web site listings at Passport America and found some nice places that offered lots of amenities we probably wouldn't use, but because we'd get them at 50% off they were very economical. One problem: We are too young!

All the parks here are 55+ communities. Here I had been wondering if I was supposed to feel old since my recent birthday put me into a new decade and Mesa was pushing back at me, saying "Go away young'un!" I couldn't help but be happy and thankful to them. To think there are actually places that will card us and turn us away because we're just kids, is the most wonderful feeling. Thanks Mesa!

I called the one smaller park that didn't have a 55+ rule, but they were full up until the end of the month. She gave me the name of some of the other places in the area, but they were the ones I'd seen already. I told her our dilemma of being just babes, and she asked about our rv year and type and told me we should just call up the parks and not say anything about our ages.

I should have taken her advice but I didn't. Like I've mentioned in other blog posts, I'm not particularly good at hiding the truth.

The first place I phoned had some spots available for us, and was all ready to book us in, and then I told her we weren't 55. She stopped and did a few "Hmmmm"s and then asked more about our RV type and year and I could feel us being judged and I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting to hear if we passed or failed. "Please let us be old enough, please let us be old enough." Finally, she made the decision and I let my breath out. If we got there before 5pm, and came to see her, she'd let us in, "wink, wink". I felt like a 16 year old setting up an assignation to be let in the back door of a bar.

On the way there, I found myself questioning my clothes style. Should I have worn capris instead of shorts? Sandals instead of flipflops? Maybe a cardigan? If I even had a cardigan, which I don't. I wondered if maybe I should have let Harold go in and register since he has grey hair. Would they turn us away or look down on us because we were just youngsters?

We got in alright and everyone seems very friendly. Nobody is glaring at us. They wave and smile at us as we walk or drive by, as if they can't even tell we don't fit in here.

I've warned Harold not to go doing cannonballs in the pool, or pop wheelies on his bike, and I'm not gonna be wearing my string bikinis and rollerblades while I do laundry or play shuffleboard. We'll figure this thing out and just maybe we'll manage to last the week here without being turfed out by the bouncers.