There is a certain breed of camper who deserves not a tent, not a cabin, but a permanent campsite in the Ninth Circle of Hell: the late-night check-in crowd. You’ve heard them, you’ve cursed them, you’ve fantasized about zip-tying their cooler shut. They roll in at ungodly hours, headlights blazing like alien abductions, car doors slamming like gunfire, and voices carrying across the campground as if auditioning for a Broadway musical called The Inconsiderates.
Here’s the tragicomic part: they’re always woefully unprepared. No batteries in their flashlight? Of course. Tent poles missing? Naturally. Screaming kids in tow because who doesn’t love a midnight meltdown symphony? Predictable. They bumble through the gravel, shrieking about lost mallets, while the rest of us lay in our thin nylon coffins wondering if this is how wars start.
And the gall—the gall! These backward-minded buffoons act like they’ve just discovered camping, when in reality they’ve just discovered how selfishness echoes across an entire valley. Mother Nature didn’t gift us crickets, and 'unggas' so you could drown them out with your Honda Ketam trunk slamming seventeen times.
If I could post a few rules at every campground gate, they’d go something like this:
1. Rule #1: If the moon is up, shut up.
2. Rule #2: If you can’t set up your tent in daylight, maybe camping isn’t your sport. Try golf. Or knitting.
3. Rule #3: If you arrive after 10 p.m., congratulations—you’ve just earned the “sleep in your car” badge.
4. Rule #4: Whispering is still yelling when it’s 1 a.m. and your tent is six inches from mine.
Camping is communal. It’s respect, quiet, and crickets—NOT your late-night clown show. If you want to party at 2 a.m., book a hotel. If you want to camp, arrive before dark—or stay home and suffocate in your own racket.
So, to the late-night check-in clowns: if you must make an entrance, make it at noon. Otherwise, stay home. When you arrive like a drunken demolition crew at midnight, you bankrupt the entire experience.
Because nothing ruins a night under the stars faster than selfish fools who think “check-in” means “kick everyone else awake.” Fuck you!
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