Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • The partying coming from the campsite across from us was insanely loud. They had backed up a large van, opened the doors and had two three-foot tall speakers blasting music so loud that it erased all thought. Their screaming was jarring, their laughter hyenic. One guy could he-haw like a donkey in a way that lifted the sound above all others (it was actually a pretty good imitation). My family and I were miserable from this hours-long audio assault that left us pie-eyed in our tent.

    It was time for action. My wife saw the look in my eye and said, "Karl, don't. There are too many and they're drunk!" No matter. My fury had reached its peak. I stormed over there and got everyone's attention, asking, politely, if they would please turn down the music and keep their voices down. I explained there were lots of families and children trying to sleep. This was met with a barrge of insults (this whole conversation was conducted in Spanish). I fired back, then they fired back, both sides unwilling to back down.

    I noticed one of them glance behind me with a puzzled look on his face. I turned around and was surprised to see my wife and two teenage sons standing behind me, arms crossed and hands on hips looking very "Don't fuck with the Gudes!" Oh Yeah!! (I sketched this drawing in our travel journal, exaggerating a few things here and there :)

    They told us to get the hell out of their campsite, which we did, telling them we'd be back again and again if they kept it up.

    About 30 minutes later the camp director wandered into our campsite. We told him we were glad to see him and that there was no longer a problem. He didn't need to go say anything to the rowdy neighbors. Then he said, "I'm sorry, I'm here because they complained about you and I'd like you to please leave them alone."

    No good deed goes unpunished...
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.