America is Back, Baby!
To sell RVs is to put a price tag on nostalgia, to sell the importance of making today good not just for today, but for the memories you’ll have of it tomorrow. People come here to envision themselves at secluded camp spots on riverbanks or in the RV lot of a massive water park. They see their belongings inside the coach and their kids on the bunk beds.
Here, despite talk of financing and credit scores, there are no worries, only possibilities.
McAndrews can see possibility every morning, when she circles the lot to see any new inventory. She can see it in everyone who comes in “just looking.” And under a hot, late-June sun with five minutes to closing time, she can see it in the eyes of her next customer.
The young mother, who clutches a white iPhone, her short hair tucked under a hat, is in town for Hoopfest looking at Class C, van-like motorhomes. She’d like to pay cash, she says. Every “yeah, OK” sounds like she’s ready to sign for the $65,000 RV today. But as she lingers without committing to buy, running her hands over the couch’s upholstery, McAndrews still looks hopeful.