Boy scout camp has given me some of the most exciting stories to tell people. I’ve told this one a few times to a few different people, and it’s one of my favorite ones to tell, so I will share it with my faithful blog followers. I apologize for the language, but, as in the story about Leo, I wanted to remain true to the story.
I will never forget my experience working at Boy Scout Camp. I had been going to Camp Chawanakee since I was 11, and in 2005 I started working there. I originally went up there as a camper with the rest of my troop, but at the end of the week I had made friends with some of the staff members and they had offered me a job. The Nature area needed a few extra hands for the last two weeks of camp, and the director Helen and her friend Doug decided to ask me if I could help them out. Since I had nothing better to do (because this was prior to any other job I’d ever had) and it was only for two weeks, I decided I might as well pick up some extra cash.
My first thought at the end of my first day was, “What the fuck did I just get myself into?”
Being a camper at Chawanakee for 5 years had given me a perception on the camp itself, but I never really thought about what the staff was like behind closed doors. The way it was described to me when I first started was, “It’s basically like all 4 years of high school drama put into one week…every week.” And they weren’t lying.
The first night I was there, I went to go hang out with Doug since he was the only person I knew. I went into his cabin to hang out for a bit, just talking to him and his roommate Kenny.
As I was sitting in Doug’s cabin getting to know him as a person and not a staff member and introducing myself to Kenny, Doug decided at some point during the conversation he had to leave. To this day, I still have no idea why, he just had some place to go. I think in retrospect it had something to do with Helen, because they had a very complicated relationship, but I still leave that to speculation.
So he left me in the room with Kenny. I felt relatively awkward, because it was one of those moments where you don’t really know what to do. You know, like when you walk up to a counter at a doctor’s office and they say they’ll be with you in a minute and continue with what they’re doing, and you stand there for a few minutes and then when they still ignore you, you don’t know if you should go sit down or stay. Because you feel awkward just standing there, but at the same time you don’t want to look weird for just leaving, so you just stand there uncomfortably until they notice you. It felt something like that.
I didn’t really know Kenny, but I knew who he, in particular, was. Every week in Chawanakee, there’s this thing called the Thumbstick Awards. Basically, there are these volunteer commissioners, and they’re assigned to certain campsites. During the day while the campers are off in class (because they teach merit badges up there) the commissioners go and check the cleanliness of the campsite. If your campsite is the cleanest for the day, you win the thumbstick for the evening, and your troop’s job is to decorate it to pass on to the next troop the following night. It’s basically just a random stick to do whatever you please with, and at the end of the week there’s a thumbstick winner and you get to take it home with you.
Anyway, Kenny was known as the Human Thumbstick. Every night he would be awarded to a certain troop; whoever the staff felt the need to give him to. They would dress him up however they wanted for the evening’s flag ceremony. Because of some of the extremely interesting things I’d seen him dressed up as over the years, I was very aware of who he was, and very interested to get to know him.
Sitting in that cabin was weird enough by itself because I hate meeting new people alone, especially when there’s really no one around that I know. After a few minutes of small talk, Kenny eased up a little bit of the tension by saying, “I gotta go too. But you’re welcome to stay if you want.”
A little confused as to why everyone was leaving me but allowing me to stay in their living space, I nervously replied, “Uh….All right….”
But then Kenny made things extremely discomforting for me. He pointed down to his bed and said, “But this is my bed, and if you sit on this bed, I will fuck you.”
What the hell? I really had no idea how to respond to that kind of a threat at all, so I just sort of looked at him and said, “Ok…?”
But it didn’t stop there. Deciding he wasn’t finished yet and fearful that the threat may not stick, Kenny decided to kick it up a notch. Already traumatized out of my mind, he then proceeded to unbutton and unzip his pants and pulled them down – including his underwear. Then he held is penis in his hands and said, “Do you see this?”
Well, obviously I see this you freak…you’ve got your penis a foot away from my face!!
“I will FUCK YOU!” he shouted.
He then pulled up his pants and left, leaving me completely and utterly flabbergasted. When I signed up for this, I didn’t think I was going to get raped! I really had no idea what to do after he left. I didn’t know if I should even walk to the door. I was scared to breathe in case it was oxygen from his side of the room or something. There was a part of me that wanted to sit on that bed, just to see if he was kidding…but then there was a bigger part of me that pictured myself running through the forest screaming at the top of my lungs with a naked Kenny chasing me and laughing psychotically. That was the part that won, and the part that told me I would be much safer just getting the hell out of there.
I waited a few more minutes after he left to collect my thoughts and my courage to move and I left. After that, I told myself if I could go one day, just one, without seeing someone’s dick or ass at Boy Scout camp, I could go home happy.
I had no such luck.