Yesterday at Barnes and Noble I bought this book which is a compendium of peoples' stories and pictures from camp (primarily Jew camp.) Gosh I miss camp. If anyone ever attended camp they should buy it. It's called Camp Camp and it rules. I remember before I left for my first real sleep-away experience my wise older brother told me "Enjoy camp while you're young. I wish I could go but I'm too old. And don't touch any boys' weiners." I asked him where old people go for fun. "Vegas."
I was thirteen years old and had gone to day camp my whole life. The camp that I attended was targeted towards autistic (my mom told me "artistic") kids so you could spend the whole day in arts and crafts making book marks and tie-dying pillowcases if you so chose. I really liked it there because I stayed clean and air-conditioned. Also, if you're open-minded, autistic kids have a lot to bring to the table. Sleepaway camp, on the flipside, was a whole different dirty animal. I'm a textbook Taurus -- a creature of luxury and comfort. I have no time for dirty animals.
I was thirteen years old and had gone to day camp my whole life. The camp that I attended was targeted towards autistic (my mom told me "artistic") kids so you could spend the whole day in arts and crafts making book marks and tie-dying pillowcases if you so chose. I really liked it there because I stayed clean and air-conditioned. Also, if you're open-minded, autistic kids have a lot to bring to the table. Sleepaway camp, on the flipside, was a whole different dirty animal. I'm a textbook Taurus -- a creature of luxury and comfort. I have no time for dirty animals.
When my dad ran into the owner of the camp he attended as a crewcutted boyscout back in 1956 and got all torqued up on his Leave-It-To-Beaverish nostaligia I suddenly and unwittingly found myself signed up for four weeks of fun in beautiful Marshalls Creek, PA. I did NOT want to go. I really didn't want to go. Especially when the sleazy camp owner came to our house, told me I looked "hot in my bellbottom trousers," and showed us the camp video. He reeked of charlatanism (which I imagine smells like Drakkar Noir.) Everyone in the video was wearing INXS t-shirts and ripped jeans! The film quality could best be described as 1982 cable access or UHF bootleg. "But mom and dad, everyone there looks like they're from 1985! " I protested. "Well, at camp they don't have hairdryer outlets so that's why all the girls have big hair. I'm sure they're very nice and unsuperficial. You're being intolerant" my mom reasoned. I found out later that the camp video was indeed made in 1985 and had not been updated because the owner was too cheap. And that most of our time at camp was spent in the bunk coiffing.
I arrived in Marshall's Creek, Pennsylvania in my snazziest new bootie shorts from Gadzooks ready to conquer the joint. I was imagining it would be like Footloose and I would introduce those backward, follically-challenged campers to the glamorous modern world of hairdryers and dance. Jesus, was I in for a gloriously rude awakening.My camp was a veritable wasteland that had not been renovated since 1956. The basketball courts were piles of rubble. There were snakes in the lake. There were maybe five campers wandering around who looked like they were straight out of Appalachia. The camp owner, who legitimately was on crack (sorry, last sidenote: he brought a prositute and her dog back on the bus from our New York City outing to be a bunk counsler. She slept with him at night), told my dad not to fear for his little princess's comfort -- he had a brand new roll of linoleum that he was going to put down in the bathroom of my bunk. To prove that he wasn't fooling around he fetched a roll of linoleum from his office and told my dad to feel it. It was luxurious. Things would be A-okay. My parents didn't want to leave me there but I told them I needed to spread my wings and fly. Even if it meant spending four weeks in apocalyptic Pocono hell.
That very same night I had my first makeout sesh. I had left New Jersey a wee starling who equated summers with quadruple reverse barell stitch, basket weaving, and Aspergers. I liked my innocent summer fun. In Marshalls Creek, PA I became a woman. Things started out inauspiciously enough. At dinner a wad of gum flew out of my mouth and got stuck in my hair. That sucked and I was ready to call my dad and have him pick me up. The head counselor had to tell me to stop being such a cunt and to CHILL OUT. She had short hair and birkenstocks and could probably fling me into orbit if she got mad enough. Nothing puts a 13 year old primma donna in her place like a militant lesbian with a whistle around her neck and Indigo Girls in her ears. Luckily I stayed though. Maybe I knew subconsciously that romance was in the cards.
At evening activities I met Teddy. Teddy had a shaved head, wore a chain, and smelled like a Polo Sport factory vomited all over him. He spoke in ebonics, had a lisp, and was from Florida. All in all, 13 year old girl bait.He told a girl in my bunk that he had a crush on me and that he wanted to be my boyfriend. His first words were "will you be my girlfwend?" I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go off into some long-winded diatribe about how "Gee Teddy, we don't really know each other but I'm sure you're a great guy. Can you cook eggs?" I said yes. He put his arm around me and we walked around like that for awhile not saying anything because that's what boyfriends and girlfriends do. I was wondering if and when I would touch his weiner and if it would be romantic. I told myself that I would wait at least a week and do it at a campfire or something so it would be extra special. Somebody suggested that a group of us play truth or dare.
Obviously the first dare was "Marlo and Teddy -- make out." We played tonsil hockey (oh, how 90's girl mag of me) for about three minutes and then it somehow came out that it was my first real kiss. He patted my back and got all concerned and serious and was like "awwww boo. are you okay?" then felt me up over my shirt since we were now intimate. I was basking in the love. My mouth devirginator! My Rudolph Valentino! Teddy Mercer! At the end of the night he told me that I was a flyyyy girl. It was all so romantic. Then a girl told me that Teddy had mouth herpes and spread it around camp the summer before. He didn't deny it. I wish she hadn't told me that. We broke up two days later. The girls in my bunk did a lunch cheer dedicated to Teddy telling him IT WAS OVER. I never touched his wang. -- marlo
I arrived in Marshall's Creek, Pennsylvania in my snazziest new bootie shorts from Gadzooks ready to conquer the joint. I was imagining it would be like Footloose and I would introduce those backward, follically-challenged campers to the glamorous modern world of hairdryers and dance. Jesus, was I in for a gloriously rude awakening.My camp was a veritable wasteland that had not been renovated since 1956. The basketball courts were piles of rubble. There were snakes in the lake. There were maybe five campers wandering around who looked like they were straight out of Appalachia. The camp owner, who legitimately was on crack (sorry, last sidenote: he brought a prositute and her dog back on the bus from our New York City outing to be a bunk counsler. She slept with him at night), told my dad not to fear for his little princess's comfort -- he had a brand new roll of linoleum that he was going to put down in the bathroom of my bunk. To prove that he wasn't fooling around he fetched a roll of linoleum from his office and told my dad to feel it. It was luxurious. Things would be A-okay. My parents didn't want to leave me there but I told them I needed to spread my wings and fly. Even if it meant spending four weeks in apocalyptic Pocono hell.
That very same night I had my first makeout sesh. I had left New Jersey a wee starling who equated summers with quadruple reverse barell stitch, basket weaving, and Aspergers. I liked my innocent summer fun. In Marshalls Creek, PA I became a woman. Things started out inauspiciously enough. At dinner a wad of gum flew out of my mouth and got stuck in my hair. That sucked and I was ready to call my dad and have him pick me up. The head counselor had to tell me to stop being such a cunt and to CHILL OUT. She had short hair and birkenstocks and could probably fling me into orbit if she got mad enough. Nothing puts a 13 year old primma donna in her place like a militant lesbian with a whistle around her neck and Indigo Girls in her ears. Luckily I stayed though. Maybe I knew subconsciously that romance was in the cards.
At evening activities I met Teddy. Teddy had a shaved head, wore a chain, and smelled like a Polo Sport factory vomited all over him. He spoke in ebonics, had a lisp, and was from Florida. All in all, 13 year old girl bait.He told a girl in my bunk that he had a crush on me and that he wanted to be my boyfriend. His first words were "will you be my girlfwend?" I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go off into some long-winded diatribe about how "Gee Teddy, we don't really know each other but I'm sure you're a great guy. Can you cook eggs?" I said yes. He put his arm around me and we walked around like that for awhile not saying anything because that's what boyfriends and girlfriends do. I was wondering if and when I would touch his weiner and if it would be romantic. I told myself that I would wait at least a week and do it at a campfire or something so it would be extra special. Somebody suggested that a group of us play truth or dare.
Obviously the first dare was "Marlo and Teddy -- make out." We played tonsil hockey (oh, how 90's girl mag of me) for about three minutes and then it somehow came out that it was my first real kiss. He patted my back and got all concerned and serious and was like "awwww boo. are you okay?" then felt me up over my shirt since we were now intimate. I was basking in the love. My mouth devirginator! My Rudolph Valentino! Teddy Mercer! At the end of the night he told me that I was a flyyyy girl. It was all so romantic. Then a girl told me that Teddy had mouth herpes and spread it around camp the summer before. He didn't deny it. I wish she hadn't told me that. We broke up two days later. The girls in my bunk did a lunch cheer dedicated to Teddy telling him IT WAS OVER. I never touched his wang. -- marlo
1 comment:
hooray for sleepover camps with hookers!
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