Credit: heathandalyssa.com See: Photos and more here
I’ve hesitated for months on whether or not to share this story. I mean, it’s not that bad, but it’s truly the most embarrassing moment we’ve had in the RV. It’s one of those stories that’s easier to tell in person, because I feel awkward typing the words “completely naked” so many times.
Eesh.
Let’s just start from the beginning.
On June 2nd, 2014 Heath worked his first job for Hourly America. It was an exhausting, stressful, and rewarding first day of filming. I wasn’t used to being on my feet all day and Heath wasn’t used to getting kicked all day.
So when we drove the RV back to the RV park after the long day of work, all we wanted to do was shower and go to sleep.
If you recall from way back when, this is the first and only night that I would shower in Franklin. I wrote about this experience before, which you can read about here, but this is the gist: it was literally the worst. The tiny shower felt like being stuffed in a tic tac carton with shampoo in your eyes.
Update: We got a new RV and I actually use our shower. It’s great! Except for Heath accidentally locked me inside it for 30 minutes last week.
So when I got out of shower and wrapped myself in a hot pink towel, I didn’t have that refreshed and relaxed after a long day of work feeling I was going for.
It didn’t help that in order to get out of the shower, I had to climb over our laundry basket, which could only fit right outside the shower door, and then had to squeeze past Heath in the tiny “walkway” around our bed.
We scooted past each other so Heath could hop in the shower. I dried off my skin while Heath undressed and turned on the showerhead to see if I left him any warm water (hint: I didn’t).
That’s when it happened.
The biggest, most terrifying spider of all time stood directly in between me and my clothes.
Okay, in reality, the spider was maybe the size of a nickel and it was on the window shade next to my underwear drawer, but by the way I screamed and pointed, I’m sure Heath thought I spotted a tarantula in our bed.
In case you’re wondering, we were at a quaint RV park on the outskirts of Albuquerque (see innocent selfie above for reference) and we almost didn’t get a site, because the park was so full. The sun had just set and it was beautiful night. People were outside laughing and roasting s’mores over campfires and enjoying summer camping trips with their families.
All the while, I’m shrieking, “Kill it! Kill it!” Heath has a panic-stricken look on his face as he looks around for something to annihilate the spider with, but he’s halfway in the shower and a towel or his dirty t-shirt wouldn’t do the trick on this beast.
“Get me a shoe!”
I open the closet door next to me, pick up a flip-flop with two fingers, as if it were somehow contaminated by the spider, and toss it to Heath.
Heath, with all those years of baseball under his belt, swings that flip flop with all his might, presumably killing the spider instantly. But in that moment, the spider was the least of our worries.
He hit the window shade where the spider was hanging out with so much force that it immediately retracted. It just rolled right on up to the top of the window.
Now, most RVs don’t have a lot of windows in the bedrooms. And nowadays all of the windows are tinted. Probably for good reason. But our 1994 model had spacious windows that started at knee height and went to the ceiling, and trust me when I say they were not tinted. They were not tinted AT ALL.
So when the shade rolled up, there we were.
Completely naked.
For all our neighbors to see.
Standing in shock in front of a very open window.
It’s dark outside. We have every light in the bedroom on. It’s not like a normal house where there’s furniture to hide behind in this sort of situation. There’s no way people can’t see us and there is no conceivable way of reaching over to close the window without giving everyone a really good show.
It was like an uncensored episode of Naked and Afraid. Except our fear wasn’t dying in the wilderness, just dying of embarrassment.
So it’s safe to say that I never showered in the RV again. Too much drama.
Oh, and we used a bunch of packing tape to make sure that window shade NEVER rolled up again. Ever.