Rude People
Most of the people I’ve met while searching for barns are unreasonably friendly. On my second trip, though, the owners ran the gamut. We met the nicest person and also the rudest.
Ross and I talked about this a lot on that particular trip, and it kind of makes sense. Country folk are generally genuinely friendly and down-to-earth by nature, so most of the people we run across are my fast friends. There are a lot of people who move out to the country solely because they want to live an isolated life and don’t want to be bothered, though, and these people don’t like it when you want to trespass. Oops.
While searching in Dekalb County, Alabama, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful little Sequoyah Caverns barn where I stopped to try to take a picture. The owner did NOT take too kindly to this. He came stomping out with what looked like a Jack Russell Terrier, mumbling about making us leave (which we did. Immediately. With no picture.).
This is also the trip we met Juan, who you can read about here. He was, without a doubt, the most welcoming, accommodating, and surprisingly unconcerned guy I’ve met while hunting barns. Mostly because he let me traipse around unattended, like a strange, strange child in a dilapidated candy store.
When I come across rude people, I’d like to say charm them and we become buddies and they invite me in for lemonade. But since there’s a lot on the line (threat of bodily harm or sudden development of an arrest record), I generally high-tail it any time I sense there might be conflict. Better safe than sorry!