Dating Dirty: A Homeless Girl’s Guide to Dating on the Road

For those of you who follow along with Sheila and me, you’ve probably noticed that most of my posts recently have been a little serious. What can I say, I’ve been in a reflective mood. But I’ve recently decided that if I write one more serious post in a row I’m going to get a second look at the pepperoni tacos I ate for lunch. So we’re done with the emotional crap (at least until something else happens that makes me contemplate my life.. but you guys should be safe for at least a week). And in honor of the less serious, much more screw-up-worthy 99% of Sheila and my experiences, I’ve decided to recount a few of the more ridiculous moments of my dating life since I started living out of a vehicle. Do with this information what you will.

Yes, I am in a relationship now. And yes, I still forget that fact at least once a day and have to remind myself that I can in fact take a shower in a house if I feel so inclined (which I usually don’t). But getting to the point where I can opt out of visiting a Planet Fitness has not been a smooth journey. A more accurate description would be a roller coaster that somehow is missing chunks out of the tracks and where the entire ride takes place upside-down. But like I always say, what is the point of screwing up if I’m not going to share it with the entire internet? So without further ado, here it is: my personal guide to dating while being intentionally homeless. In other words, a bunch of unfortunate stories that hopefully provide some entertainment, and that make all of you with access to a real bathroom appreciate having the finer things in life. 

What would I do without Planet Fitness?

When I first started out, I would get horribly uncomfortable walking into a planet fitness. It wasn’t that I was opposed to showering in a gym- I live in a vehicle, I’m not really above anything at this point. No, what I was feeling was guilt. I felt that I was doing something wrong. Walking through the front door with a gym bag full of only my make-up, a pair of high-waisted jeans and my favorite crop top, it felt as though everyone knew I wasn’t planning on spending a second in the actual gym. I used to give the purple-shirted desk attendants guilty side-glances as I would walk by at break-neck speeds, attempting to get to the locker room before they discovered my master plan and told me that gyms were for gym-related activities, or pointed at me and yelled “Hey everyone! She’s just here to use the shower!” But, times have changed. These days, I’m strolling in there like I own the place, shoes already dirty from a hike or a trail run, tracking mud across the black gym floors on my way straight to the shower, and then waving goodbye as I saunter past the teenagers standing at the front desk giving me strange looks because I had just walked in not twenty minutes before with the same outfit on. But when it comes to dating, Planet Fitness is a lifesaver. The first time I went out with Doug, after washing my hair with the shampoo and conditioner I stole from a hotel room a few weeks prior, putting on my makeup next to a woman who was singing to herself at full volume while tying her sneakers and talking to another woman about the dangers of online dating because I had told her I had a date that night, I strolled out of Sheila with straight, clean hair and all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just showered in flip-flops. Moral of the story, you can make anything work for you- it’s all about that I-just-showered-in-a-real-bathroom confidence. And just a tip- turns out that Planet Fitness employees cannot actually read minds. Wild.

I need to stop accidentally flashing people

But you can’t always be lucky enough to have hot water and a host of strange women in a locker room to help boost your confidence. For this story, we’re going all the way back to late July. Things with Jerry had gone south, and I found myself in California again- Mammoth Lakes, to be exact- about to go on a date. I have never mentioned this date before, mainly because it really wasn’t worth mentioning, and certainly not worth a fake name. But regardless, Nameless Hinge Guy and I did in fact go out.. once. This was back when I had an ice cold shower that occasionally worked. It was a particularly hot day, and I had just gotten back to camp after a long hike. I was camped in a very quiet section of woods outside of town, and I could not see anyone else around, so with all of the van doors open for warmth I ducked one limb at a time into the freezing shower. Finished, and completely naked, I whipped open the door to my shower and stepped out into the van… to see a woman walking her dog right in front of me. She stared at me, and I at her, for a solid three seconds that felt like a year. Then I realized that I should probably not be standing naked in front of this strange woman, and I very slowly backed up into the shower, closing the door as I went, and waited until she was gone. Neither of us spoke a word to each other, and I never saw her again, but I can only imagine what she was thinking. Probably something along the lines of “Damn hippies.” Sorry ma’am, no hippies here, just a girl with the unfortunate habit of being accidentally naked in public. Someday that’s going to get me in trouble.

Gas stations aren’t just for gas 

Fast forward. It’s September, and Sheila and I are in Aspen, Colorado. I have a date that night, and there is no planet fitness within 100 miles. I also had no power, and so a shower was completely out of the question. Fortunately, by this point I had absolutely no shame left to hinder me from doing something mildly embarrassing. But what I was opposed to was showing up to this date smelling like old pepperoni. I had to make it work. So I pulled into a gas station, and parked Sheila out back by the dumpsters. I then proceeded to strip down to my bra and a pair of shorts, grab a gallon of water I had lying around and pour half of it over my head while leaning over my sink. Water dripping down my face and chest, gallon still in hand, I looked up to see an older man walking by my van and clearly staring into the window, ignored his presence entirely and got back to my shower. Washing my hair and face, I poured the other gallon over my head to wash out the soap. But then something began to prickle at me. Literally. It was my legs. I couldn’t show up to this date in the very skimpy outfit I was planning on wearing with prickly legs! But I was also out of water. Cringing, I took my dollar-store men’s single-blade razor out of my bag and got to work. Dry-shaving finished, I repeated the same process with my armpits, sprayed a little perfume on them and called it a day. Still sitting at the gas station, I put my makeup on in the front seat and got dressed, the crazy red bumps on my legs slowly calming down and my dirty sandals hiding the dried blood on my ankles from where I hadn’t been quite so successful. Gas station shower complete, I was inexplicably proud of myself. But when Steve said “You look really good for someone who lives in their van,” I thought of the old man who had witnessed what had really gone on at that Colorado Shell station, and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

Down by the river

But sometimes, there are days when you smell so bad that a gas station shower just won’t cut it. For example, when you are, say, living in a bus station parking lot, about to go out to a really nice dinner at which you are hoping to impress some people you have never met with your lack of homeless appearance and smell, and you haven’t showered in over a week. Plus, you have spent that entire week hiking and running through the woods, and you are so dirty that you can see the color of your legs change drastically from one side of your sock line to the other. There is no doubt about it- you need to take an actual shower. But unfortunately, the bus station doesn’t have the right facilities. So, since this is in fact a true story, in which the main character is, in fact, me, I decided that my only option was to shower in the river. There was a relatively secluded spot down the road from the bus station, where I assumed it would be safe to remove my clothes in the middle of the day. I gathered all of my shower supplies, threw on my bathing suit for the trip down to the river, and walked down to the beach. Focused on the task at hand, I threw all of my things onto the beach and walked to the water without looking up from my feet. But as I reached down to remove my bathing suit top, I looked up, and across the river, on the opposite bank, was an entire family- grandparents, parents, and most likely their adult children, all standing in a line, holding glasses of wine, facing me and watching intently. Hmm. How was I going to make this one work? I obviously couldn’t shower right in front of these people. So as I sat waving to them, I decided to just wait it out, and hope they would leave. I sat on that beach for nearly an hour, pretending to read, pretending to sun-tan, and all the while shooting side glances at the family to confirm that thy were still having their backyard party in the same spot. Finally they all turned and walked back towards what I can only assume was their house- finally. So rude of them to try to enjoy their own backyard while I was attempting to be a total dirtbag in the same location. But this was my chance, so I shook off my disdain, grabbed a bar of soap and headed into the river. Clean, and quickly turning purple from the ice-cold water, I ran back up to the road, glancing behind my shoulder the entire time to make sure I hadn’t been spotted. After trying on a series of cocktail dresses (which, yes, I had in fact brought with me from home for some reason completely unknown even to me) in the bus station parking lot using the front camera on my phone, setting it up against the doorway and then running out into the dirt parking lot to try to beat the camera timer, I caught the free bus into town (conveniently right outside my front door) and showed up smelling completely normal. “Good” might have been a stretch- I was living in a parking lot, after all. 

So in summary, I only have a couple things to say. First, I apologize to everyone who has accidentally seen me naked. I can’t imagine the emotional scarring that this must have caused. And second, living on the road always presents challenges. If it was convenient, and comfortable,  then everyone would do it. But instead, it is reserved for those of us who are willing to make ourselves a little uncomfortable, to live a life without many of the luxuries that most of society takes for granted, and to enjoy this lifestyle in spite of its challenges. But, like anything else you are attempting to do while living out of a vehicle, dating on the road can be done- you just have to be willing to embrace a little dirt and grime, to appreciate a good river (and a good gas station dumpster), to swallow your pride, to stop concerning yourself with the opinions of others, to appreciate a little embarrassment for its character-building potential, and, as always, to laugh at yourself loudly and often. Personally, I don’t see how you can ever take yourself seriously again after you’ve accidentally flashed a stranger and a tiny dog. But that’s just me. And finally, never forget: it’s all about that I-just-showered-in-a-real-bathroom confidence. 

And with that, Sheila and I are off to keep screwing up, because we have to fit it in while we can- I’m only two months away from starting the Appalachian Trail, and unfortunately she can’t come along. Believe me, I would take her if I could.

“No one has ever choked from swallowing their pride.” -Unknown