Coffeehouse Chronicles… Wait! I Never Said to Use My Answers!

Cruisers hanging

Whaddup Chroniclers?

The HB and I are out in the mobile coffeehouse again, roughing it with 35 other rigs this week. 

Our camping club consists of about 56 motorhomes and towables. If you’re a regular Chronicler, you are familiar with many of the cast of characters. You know I rarely roll without Cmdr. McCroc and Mrs. Scrubbles, they’re definitely here… truth be told, even if he wasn’t present, the Cmdr always somehow seems to make some sort of cameo in the Chronicles. Let’s face it: you would be disappointed, he would be crushed, and I just wouldn’t enjoy my giggles as much without a mention of the Cmdr. Tell me I’m wrong.

The Cmdr. always begs me, “Stop loving me so much.” 

— — —

This meeting of the minds can only end in disaster.

When we ended the last Chronicles, you’ll remember that I was trying to organize a grill intervention for The Right Reverend Doctor Porter the other day. I believe that we agreed that nine stoves packed into the cargo bays of one RV is just a little bit excessive. Well, those plans were waylaid when Cmdr. McCroc arrived and got wind of my plans. He and The Right Rev got together and started talking about BBQing and grilling and tenderness of the chops, and all of the progress that I made on Tuesday just went out the window! 

Ten minutes of cookery talk, and these two started to plot on how to regain their footing on the battlefield of getting more space in Laverne’s cargo bays (Everyone names their RV, don’t they?). The Right Rev, with the gleeful assistance of his co-conspirator, The Cmdr., were plotting to overthrow the tyranny that they were both convinced was at the hands of The First Lady. 

“Hey, look! It’s not your fault that The First Lady has to start the day in stylish pumps and then has a pair of sneakers to match every outfit that she changes into throughout the day,” I heard the Cmdr. tell The Right Rev. “Seven totes of shoes is just too much! You need to put your foot down and tell The First Lady that you need more stove space!”

“YEAH!” Answered The Right Rev, looking toward me for approval.

“Oh no, you don’t.”  I shook my head, “Don’t try to get me tangled up in this craziness. My name is Bennett.”

Then they both put their heads together to continue their plot of a bloodless coup of Laverne further. 

It's always good over at Tenille's RV

I decided to head over to where I thought I might be safe, over to see Tenille. It’s all rainbows and unicorns over at his rig. He has cigars, smooth jazz, and libation that overflows. 

I was looking to catch up with the Professor, but every time I see him, he starts to run the other direction, “I’m just trying to stay out of the Chronicles,” he said.

Her Honor, Mrs Mayor, was out kissing babies and stirring the pot yesterday. Apparently, Your Hero assumed something the other day, and you know what they say about assumptions… Well, Your Hero made a slight blunder, and sometimes two plus two equals a totally different number. Now, in my defence, it was not me who used my poor math skills and went to the blackboard with the answer. I kept my miscalculation in my pocket. And just let me say this, “Stop looking at my paper.” 

Anyway, Mrs. Mayor just loves to poke the bear, and she kept spreading the rumor that I told ‘so-and-so’ to use my answer.

I never said that.

Will someone please tell the Mayor to stop pointing at me and giggling? UGH! Why did I vote for her anyway!

Oh well, you know what to do!  

Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!

#coffeehousechronicles