Tales of a Burnt-Out Camp Counselor

[Katran]

I am a camp counselor at the local public day camp (read: cheap day care). I am also going into my sophomore year of college. I am far too old for this job.

To sum things up, I've been experiencing pretty bad health problems for the past 2 years or so, so I wanted to get a summer job that I could quit easily in case something catastrophic happened. Hence my return to the Town Camp.

Monday marked the beginning of my 4th summer working there. I was, against my will, put with the 11-14 year old girls group. I would have taken any other group over them because girls between the ages of 11-14 are, with few exceptions, horrible bitches. They make me want to shoot myself in the face. And it's only been 4 days with them. My coworkers aren't much better. I want to shoot some of them in the face as well.

Weekends are bliss (especially this long one). Since I don't have to go back to work until Monday, I'll list the "highlights" of this past week.

Monday:
The camp sets a new record for most kids attending on the first day. The bowling alley couldn't accommodate all the campers, so the 11-14 year olds (of course) couldn't go bowling and we had to sit at the camp all day. I worked in the food shack at lunch and came to the conclusion that the public school system is failing miserably because most of the campers (and coworkers too) couldn't add prices or make change or anything that involved brain activity. I was moments away from faking an epilectic seizure to get the hell out of there when it started raining, so we went into our Rain Emergency Plan. We herded the girls to the baseball field dugouts to wait for the buses to come to take us to a local school where we could stay dry. Everyone else in the camp went, but somehow my group was forgotten. The summer is not off to a good start.

Tuesday:
Nothing of any significance happened today, other than my girls not wanting to do anything other than watching the boys. My sunscreen decided not to work and I got burned badly.

Wednesday:
Ah, roller skating day, what used to be my favorite day of the week. Not this year. I turned to Mr. Sunglasses, one of the few people I get along with and asked, "Do you think our camp counselors hated the job this much or are the kids just worse?"
He answered, "The kids are much worse, we NEVER were this bad." We sounded so old.
And the kids are definitely getting worse. They are absolutely horrible. I was watching the squat races when a little 7 year old girl from our camp came up to me, doing the worst fake-crying job I have ever seen in my entire life. Between her (badly-acted) sniffles, she said to me, "I was supposed to buy cotton candy for my mommy, but I don't have any more money, can I have two dollars?" She was SEVEN YEARS OLD and she was lying to me through her teeth. Usually I make up some story about how I don't have any more money, but this girl just completely blew me away, so I just told her, "No, because I don't give out any of my money to campers." She gave me an annoyed look and went to look for another counselor. I was tempted to warn the others, but I figured if they were dumb enough to give this girl money for cotton candy, they deserved to lose it.
Finally, our skating time was up, and we headed outside. Our supervisor, Mr. Hairyman, told us to bring our girls over to the side of the building and line them up - a 10 year old girl had reported her cell phone stolen (why a 10 year old has her own cell phone is beyond me). We lined up all the kids between ages 9-14 and checked EVERY SINGLE BAG for the cell phone. Another counselor tried calling the number of the stolen cell phone to see if we could hear it, but no such luck. After we emptied and checked all the bags (with no luck), we reassured her with, "Maybe it fell out on the bus...maybe you lost it in the rink and the staff will turn it in...maybe you left it at home and didn't notice."
The first bus is called and two other counselors take the kids to the bus to load them on...and there's a 12 year old boy sitting there by himself. Hmm, looks a bit suspicious. The counselors haul him out of the bus and take him to Mr. Hairyman, who immediately asks what he was doing by himself (NY state law says no camper can go ANYWHERE without a counselor at ANY time).
"What were you doing on the bus by yourself?"
"I, uh, I thought it was called already."
"And you didn't notice that no one else was on it? That the rest of the camp was over here? And you *forgot* that you're not supposed to go by yourself?"
At this point, it's discovered that the boy has the cell phone (big surprise there). Mr. Hairyman completely flips out on him, especially after the kid claims he "didn't know who to turn it in to". Ugh.

Thursday:
We managed to turn a 1.5 hour movie into a full day trip, between finding the theater, getting kids seated, and letting everyone buy snacks. Once the movie started, it wasn't a horrible day (though Mr. Sunglasses and I did try to hang ourselves with our keychains at one point).

 

[Katran]

Monday:
Not a horrible day. In the morning, we were told that because there were too many kids, our group wouldn't get to go bowling again but right as the second group was leaving, it was decided that the 11-14 girls could go. That made us very happy.

The morning wasn't very eventful. We played kickball and wiffleball against the 11-14 boys...or at least we tried, because half the girls didn't want to play. We tried to convince them all to at least stand out in the field, which resulted in them simply staring at the ball as it rolled by them. "You are allowed to move your feet, you know!" I yelled at them. One of the boys' counselors decided that when the girls were up, we'd play to 5 outs and when the boys were up, we'd do the normal 3, which made no one happy - the boys were upset because they'd have to wait longer to get up, the athletic/feminist girls were annoyed (and rightfully so) because it really was a blow to our gender, and the girls who didn't want to play were pissy because the game would last that much longer. I stopped caring about their happiness a long time ago. The game actually wasn't too bad, except for when I was pitching and someone threw the muddy kickball back to me too hard and it hit me in the chest, leaving a nice brown smear on my black shirt, right over my left breast. It was attractive.

Once we got to the bowling alley, life was good. They can't bowl for anything, but sometimes it's fun watching them try. We only had one minor injury involving a bowling ball - one of the girls slipped and a ball flew backwards into the rest of the group, but no one got hurt badly.

We got back to the camp and were told that Mr. Hairyman had gotten a phone call from the pool we go to on Tuesdays and Fridays, saying that the filter and the motor were broken and they probably wouldn't be fixed until Wednesday, so we'd have to stay at the camp all day Tuesday. We all wanted to cry.

Today:
Yesterday, we told the girls that since there was a chance that we wouldn't be swimming today, they shouldn't come to camp (one of the bus drivers overheard and said, "They might tell their parents you said that," and I told her that I didn't really care). Miraculously, most of them listened, so we only had 17 girls today (a very nice improvement from our usual 35 or so). However, we still had to entertain them all day in the hot sun. I packed my bag carefully this morning, throwing anything that might provide entertainment (cards, magazines, etc.).

I brought two Edward Gorey books with me (The Gashleycrumb Tinies and Amphigorey Too) and read some of them to the girls. The older girls appreciated it more than the younger ones...though I was amused by the one girl reading "The Beastly Baby" out loud and getting to the end where the baby explodes. The look on her face was priceless.

So I managed to get away with doing practically no work today. I even managed to sit in the same place for almost two hours without having to move. Of course I did my expected "duties" - I made sure everyone had lunch, cleaned up their mess, and took people to the bathroom. But as far as actually participating in activities, reading and playing cards were just about it.

I was sitting indian-style (or whatever the PC term is these days) for too long, apparently, because I got sunburned on only half my legs. My knees and inner thighs are red and the rest of my legs are not. While it was rather amusing when I first discovered it, now I realize it just looks silly (especially when combined with my sock line). It hurts a bit, too.

Two "I Can't Believe These Freakin' Kids" moments - 1) I came back from throwing out my garbage to the area where I was playing cards with some girls and two boys from the 9-10 group were hanging on a tree (which they know they're not supposed to do). I told them to get off and I got the usual "But we're not very high up! Why can't we sit in the tree? We just want some shade! Our counselor told us we could climb the tree!" I told them that all that didn't matter, they still had to get out of the tree, and one of them turned to me and said, "You're not a counselor, you can't tell me what to do!" I didn't have a very good response to that, other than, "Well, damn! I wish someone had told me sooner so I wouldn't have to be here today!" as my girls screamed at him and told him that I was, in fact, 19 years old, not 11-14.

2) Every time someone has to go to the bathroom or get a drink, we always ask the entire group who wants to go because they're not allowed to go without a counselor and we don't want to make 17 individual trips. I had just gotten back from my nth bathroom trip (it was late in the day) and had plopped down on a picnic table, when one of the younger girls came up to me and sat down next to me. The following exchange took place:
"You look nice today."
"No, I don't. I am sweaty and disgusting."
"No, you really look nice."
"Oh. Well, thank you."
"Will you take me to the bathroom?"
*pause* "No, I just got back from the bathroom. Why didn't you come with me two minutes ago when I brought the other girls?"
"I didn't know you were going." [a better excuse than "I didn't have to go then," I must admit]
"I announced it."
"Oh...well, I wasn't with the group, I was playing over here."
"Well, you should have been with us. Go ask someone else to take you."

As much as I hate to admit it, "Go ask another counselor" is the easiest way to get out of doing work. When I first started working, I felt guilty about using it, but so many of my coworkers did it to me, that didn't last very long. Of course the trick is to get the campers to talk to me first so I can refer them to someone else.

 

[Katran]

I got to work yesterday and had to leave. I think it was a combination of cramps and being in the sun for far too long on Tuesday; either way, I felt dizzy and nauseous and altogether crappy, so I went home. I found out that I didn't miss much: the camp got to the skating rink too early and had to wait outside for half an hour and at the end of the day when the buses were being called, a little girl was running, tripped, and fell, and was gushing blood from her knee. I'm sorry I missed it.

That's a lie.

Today was movie day - we went to see "Finding Nemo". It was actually really cute, I enjoyed it (some of the other counselors disagreed with me, screw them). I missed a few minutes at the beginning because my girls were taking SO long to get their snacks and finally, Mr. Hairyman had enough of them and told a theater employee to start the movie. I bitched to Mr. Hairyman's son Mr. Superman, who's second-in-command (and only a year older than me) about how the boys were the ones taking too long and I was looking forward to seeing the movie, and he told me that he'd watch the rest of my girls (the other counselors had ditched me, bitches) because he'd seen the movie already. I told him I owed him one and headed back for the theater. Mr. Superman has a little bit of a reputation for being an arrogant tight-ass, but he and his brother (who also works at the camp, it's kind of a family thing) have always been very nice to me. I think they notice that I'm not like the other counselors and I actually do have more than two brain cells bouncing around in my pretty little head.

I actually had very little interaction with the campers today, which is probably why the day wasn't too bad. However, one of my girls managed to tick me off quite a bit. While we were waiting for our turn to go get snacks (they do it in age order, we were last, of course), Miss Tooperky asked our group if anyone needed to go to the bathroom and wound up taking about 20 girls with her (they're really not supposed to go by themselves, but once the movie starts, we usually let them go). Less than 10 seconds after they all get back, a girl comes up to me:
"I have to go to the bathroom."

*loud sigh* "Miss Tooperky JUST got back with half the group and I heard her announce she was going several times, why didn't you go?"

*shrug* "Will you take me to the bathroom?"

*another sigh* "Fine, come on."

I take her into the bathroom and stand by the door. She goes over to the mirror, pats the top of her hair down, goes over to the sink, puts some water on her hair, pats her hair again, and says, "Okay, I'm finished."

I just stared at her in disbelief. "You have to be kidding me," I told her.

"Nope, that's it." The little twerp starts laughing.

I glared at her and told her, "Don't ask any of us to take you to the bathroom again for the rest of the day." Of course she starts laughing more, thinking I'm joking. "I'm being completely serious," I said. "You are not going to the bathroom for the rest of the day unless we can see it's an obvious emergency."

And just to be sure, I alerted all the other counselors in our group (and the ones standing in the hallway) that this particular girl had abused her bathroom privileges and she was not to go again. Maybe I was being a tight-ass myself, but she just annoyed me. I told Mr. Sunglasses the story once I got back into the theater, ending with, "and I wish I had that thirty seconds of my life back. Not that I would have done anything more productive sitting here on my ass in the theater, but I still wish I hadn't gone."

One more day until the weekend. Wheee....

 

[Katran]

Friday was the BEST DAY EVER!!! I didn't want to go swimming, so when I woke up and looked out the window and saw it was drizzling, I was happy. I even did a little dance when Mr. Superman called me to tell me that we'd be doing the "rain plan". Apparently, most of the girls had no desire to spend the day at a local school, so we only had ELEVEN girls. It was beautiful.

Then, to make things even better, it was announced that because we had missed bowling last week, any 11-14 girl who had $5 could go bowling in the morning. I jumped up, shoved my coworkers out of the way, and started the line of people to go bowling. 7 out of the 11 had the money, so I (with Miss Curlyhair, one of the coworkers I like) took them, leaving the other 4 with the other counselors. We bowled for half the day, came back to the school, ate lunch, and stuck the kids in front of a movie for the rest of the day. It was "Spiderman", which I had no desire to see, so I pulled out my latest Laurell K. Hamilton book and started reading. At one point, Mr. Hairyman looked directly at me and didn't even tell me to put the book away. It was a fabulous day.

Today, however, wasn't as good (though it wasn't too bad, either), aside from the fact that the trailer had been broken into over the weekend and the police were there dusting for fingerprints this morning. I took 11 of the girls to Arts & Crafts in the morning and helped them make greeting cards (at age 11, they can still make one hell of a mess with glue). Then an ice cream truck came and the whole camp got free sundaes (with extra toppings for the counselors), which was very nice indeed.

Before the ice cream truck came, I took two girls to the water fountain and the bathroom. As we were walking, one of the girls turns to me and says, "I have enough money to go bowling, but I'm going to tell them I don't so I don't have to give them the money." That had me stunned for a few seconds. First of all, she obviously knows it's wrong, and second of all, she's assuming that I'll let her get away with it? I finally told her something about checking her bags (which we really don't do unless it's obvious someone is lying to us). And, as luck would have it, Mr. Hairyman chose me to collect the money for our group. The camper in question gave me a ten dollar bill; I was tempted to keep the change, but I gave her a five back.

So everyone could go bowling, we had to cram all the 9-14 year olds of both genders into only two school buses. It was absolute chaos. We had all the 11-14 girls in one bus with most of the 11-14 boys...and none of their counselors. The five of us were absolutely screaming at them the entire time to sit down, be quiet, stop fighting, etc. When we got to the bowling alley, Miss Vacantstare and I turned around and yelled that no one was moving off this bus until Mr. Superman came on to see what little heathens they were being. Of course, the second Mr. Superman set foot on the bus, you could have heard a pin drop. Bastards.

The bus ride was so hellish that once we got inside, all the counselors parked themselves in chairs and tried to move as little as possible. I got up once to get a bag of chips, I think I moved the least (more power to me). The bowling was fairly uneventful, thank goodness. When it was time to leave, we shoved the kids back on the buses...and there was no seat for me. Anywhere. We had three people in every single seat on both buses. I knew that two counselors had driven down (because we bitched about them when we saw them getting out of a car), but one must have gotten on a bus while the other one drove back. The bus drivers were yelling at me to find a seat because they had to leave, and as I very politely told the first one that there were no seats left, I saw Mr. Superman get into his car and start banging his head against the steering wheel. I got off the first bus and got onto the second one, which was also completely filled. Just as the second bus driver began to complain (you know, because it was my fault that the bus was full, I'm a bitch like that sometimes, going around and filling buses), Mr. Superman came over to see what the problem was. I asked him for a ride back to the camp and he was happy to oblige, and if he hadn't been watching, I would have done a "I don't have to ride back on the bus!" dance.

We were a bit behind the buses on the way back to the camp because of traffic, and when we got to the intersection where we were supposed to turn left, Mr. Superman realized he wasn't in the turn lane. He decided that it was too late to get into the turn lane (it wasn't), so we'd just take a longer way back to the camp. Before I could even open my mouth, he said, "Oh, damn, and that way takes longer, too. That's a shame." We laughed. And suprisingly enough, none of my little angels accused me of anything scandalous when I got back. Every time a female counselor even talks to a male counselor, we have to endure, "Ooh, you were flirting! Do you like him? I think you like him! You think he's cute! You want to go out with him!" A car ride back with the nice-looking Mr. Superman had such potential, but none of the girls took the opportunity. I guess they were tired, too.

(One last note: In a tragic accident, Mr. Sunglasses' sunglasses were broken today. The counselors all had a moment of silence. It was a very sad day.)