Someone Tell Me I Smell Nice

Nobody…? Alright, I don’t blame you. You know, living in a van definitely has its perks. It’s easily the best decision I’ve ever made. I love the lifestyle, I love the freedom, I love the unlimited potential every day has to offer. But as I stood in line at an Auto Zone today, 3-day-old dirt caked onto my leggings, dressed in my usual hobo-meets-middle-school-boy fashion, I realized that there is one very specific way that the van has reduced my quality of life. 

Now believe me, I am definitely not a girl that can get what she wants by flipping her hair and showing a little cleavage. Mostly because I don’t have any cleavage, and I am not graceful in the slightest- if I tried to flip my hair I would probably look like I was having a seizure. The attempt at flirting would no doubt end in the guy trying to call 911 and me running away. And since my ego doesn’t need a hit like that, I usually avoid flirting at all costs. You will definitely never see me in the middle of a circle of guys at a bar- or anywhere else for that matter. But in every girl’s life, even the ones with small boobs, there are moments when our gender can work to our advantage- and I personally say take whatever you can get. So this morning I planned to… or at least to try. 

You see, I had gone into that Auto Zone with a mission. I’ve had some battery issues- long story short the batteries that run all my appliances, etc. are not charging- and without them I have no electricity, no running water, no fridge- nothing. It’s not a deal-breaker, but the fridge has been very, very nice to have. Now as you know, I am on a budget, and as a result I am forever looking for ways to save a dollar. So in the interest of that dollar, I put my dignity aside (much easier than I thought), brushed the dirt off my leggings, took off the flannel I was wearing over my crop top, and strutted into that Auto Zone with the confidence of a much richer, much cleaner, much bustier woman, looking for a little free help. 

But as I stood in line waiting to work my magic, I caught a whiff of something. Someone in that store smelled terrible. Who would go out in public smelling like that?! Looking around in disgust at everyone else in line, I was ranking in my head the possible suspects from most to least likely.. until I smelled it again, and in horror I realized it was my dirty-ass self that was the culprit! Then I looked down. When I had left Sheila a few minutes before, I thought just because I was wearing a crop top that I looked cute, maybe a little sexy in my skinny, 12-year-old-boy fashion. But as I scanned my outfit with new, enlightened eyes, I realized the sad truth of it- my crop top was dirty as shit, and very stretched out, my pants were still in fact covered in dirt despite my best efforts, my sandals were equally as filthy, and the Tampa Bay football hat did nothing to conceal my unwashed pigtails. The days of full make-up, straight hair, and clean, cute clothes were over. And with them went the days of being able to batt my eyelashes and get free help from the Auto Zone guy. 

But here I was, still standing in line… and I was next. I had to think fast. In one moment, I changed my entire strategy. I was no longer a sweet, innocent, helpless girl who didn’t know anything about cars. If there had been any chance before my recent lifestyle change that I could have flirted my way into free labor, that chance was now long gone. I would be lucky to flirt my way into a battery check at this point, and those are free for everyone. With one quick whiff of my armpits I knew I only had one option left- if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I had to become.. a dude. So as I walked up to the counter, I widened my stance, hunched my shoulders, and tried to remember everything I had ever learned about car batteries.. then realized that was nothing, and crossed my fingers. 

It was a very productive conversation. I pretended to know what I was talking about, and he thankfully finished my sentences before he realized I wasn’t able to finish them myself. We stood there staring at the batteries with our arms crossed, pointed a little bit, rubbed our mustaches, spit a few times, slapped each other on the ass and solved all the world’s problems. And I actually ended up with a few good leads to follow. In fact, I think I learned more in this conversation than I ever have by playing dumb. Most likely because he thought I understood, so he went into more detail than he would have to my girlier alter ego. My battery issues are still a mystery, but what has become clear is that while van life has made it impossible for me to get within five feet of a guy and still have any influence over him, it has also forced me to shift my perspective. 

Do I smell? Hell yeah I do! Could I easily be mistaken for a small boy in the right light? Absolutely! But you know what- who the hell cares?? I used to put so much weight in appearances. I got up every morning and did my makeup, straightened my hair, put my heels on, and god forbid I went one day without a shower, I would barely be able to go out in public. But what about any of those things makes me a better person? What about wearing makeup makes me easier to get along with, or kinder, funnier, or a better friend? How about smarter, or better at, say, working on car batteries? Nothing, that’s what. And honestly I think the Auto Zone guy took me more seriously because I wasn’t all dolled up. Not that there’s anything wrong with looking good- I still love wearing makeup. But I’m learning (slowly) that the way you look, how pretty you are or the type of clothes you wear, shouldn’t truly affect your self-esteem, because it doesn’t have anything to do with your value as a person. Physical beauty fades. So why waste our time trying to impress other people with the way we look, and instead just love ourselves for who we are, and all of the amazing qualities that we each have? I don’t know about you guys, but I freaking love my life- and nothing about that has to do with what I see in the mirror. 

So there you have it- the little epiphany I had this morning in a California Auto Zone. And with that, Sheila and I are going to take our dirty, messy, not-so-hot-looking, freaking awesome selves on the road, and keep screwing up.. all the way to Montana. Stand by for more bear stories! If I live to tell about it… 

“Beauty isn’t about having a pretty face. It’s about having a pretty mind, a pretty heart, and a pretty soul.” -Unknown.