So a few years back I was working at a backpackers in a forest. I’d set up a tent 20 minutes outside of the campsite near a waterfall and I’d work the bar in exchange for delicious food, a free place to pitch my tent and perks that included free gnts and a weekly bag of organic coffee. For extra cash I’d sell cigarettes to European and American tourists who were completely unaware of my 100% markup. I was 19, pale and lanky with long white-blond hair.
I was living in the company of strangers so I was surprised to see a familiar face – a friend’s older brother. He’d come all this way out of the city to visit me. He was a very stylish gay man, a social media manager who new how to glamp. His tent was a five-man luxury affair with a double mattress, crisp white sheets and a hanging arrangement of branches and fairy lights suspended from the ceiling.