RV revenge, copping out and feeding frenzy

Dear Rachel,

Labor Day Weekend reminded me how badly this country needs a network of back roads exclusively for RVs and travel trailers. You can’t go anywhere on those holiday weekends without getting stuck behind one going 30 mph under the speed limit – until of course you hit a passing lane. Then they’re suddenly going warp speed. What gives?

– Moving Violation

Dear Unmovable Object,

This is one of those Laws of the Universe: an RV must accelerate to high speeds on straightaways with high visibility. It’s not their choice; it’s physics. There’s some sort of ionic bond between the big-ass vehicle and the quarter mile of passenger cars behind it. Every now and then, one car from the back breaks this bond and attempts to escape. But it typically gets beaten back by a double yellow. Nothing to be done.

– Riding your tail, Rachel

Dear Rachel,

You talked last week about a friend mixing up “cramp my style” and “crimp my style.” Well, my little sister says “pop a squat” and refuses to believe that it’s “cop a squat.” There’s a lotta years and a generational divide between us. Maybe our parents failed to teach her to read so she misheard the word. Cop-a penny for your thoughts?

– Popping Off

Dear Jack-in-the-Box,

The word “cop” is disappearing because the younger generations is woke enough that no one is copping a feel anymore. Thank goodness. Without copping feels, there’s no sister phrase for copping squats, so it’s just going to fade into nothingness. Kind of like that jar of copper pennies I used to have, eight moves ago. 

– Cop goes the weasel, Rachel 

Dear Rachel,

Why is the etiquette for feeding houseguests? It’s my house, I’m inconvenienced, I’m saving you a crap-ton of money on a hotel, and I’m also supposed to buy groceries for the week? I know, technically I invited them or at least caved to their request. But shouldn’t they at least have to cover groceries?

– Innkeeper, Try Outkeeper

Dear Host with the Least,

You lose the economic high ground the moment you accede to houseguests. You feed ’em, you launder ’em, you tolerate their annoying everything until they finally, blissfully, pack up and go. But you get to maintain the moral high ground, at least. Still, sounds like the high ground you need is the top of a steep hill, with your guests in an Airstream where they can cop a squat while you push them slowly down the incline.

– A warm welcome, Rachel