Summer Camp Scaries
I was hired in a Denny’s, and I was fired in a Denny’s.
It was my first summer in Arizona. I was 19 and looking forward to not going to class, with a fun gig to pass the time. I searched all over and came across a non-profit summer camp in the valley, and I applied to be a camp counselor.
After a phone call, we had a large group interview with all the potential camp counselors for the summer. We played camp games, had some awkward team building, and they told us they’d get back to us.
They called to meet me in a Denny’s and to my surprise, they didn’t offer me the counselor position, but rather the site director role.
Nobody knew I was 19, and I planned to keep it that way. I happily took the position. They bought my breakfast and introduced me to the GM of the restaurant who was their friend from (old people activity). I was excited to start.
The camp, however, had a problem. We were the last chance summer camp. Most of the kids in our camp were kicked out of all the actually good camps. Kids greeted each other with “What’re you in here for?”
The camp had three total sites, each with it’s own site director and counselors. The staff I worked with at our site was sick. It was totally women besides me, and they were all excellent school teachers that liked to work at camps over their vacation. Bless them.
The deal we struck was pretty awesome. They didn’t deal with parents or troublemakers, I didn’t deal with curriculum. They programmed the camp together, and I assumed the role of authoritarian. It’s the only time “I’ll go get Forbes!” has been seriously taken as a threat.
Just as we were really starting to get busy, we hit our stride. The counselors and I were all best friends and we were genuinely happy to be at work. The kids bought into our energy and the programming was engaging and diverse. The site started to run itself.
That’s when the other camps fell apart.
The other two site directors had both been fired and their day to day programs descended into chaos.
One site had a mutiny and all but one employee quit. The other site lacked any daily schedule at all. It was the middle of June and they had families depending on their child care, but they could barely stay open.
The woman that ran the company was very pleasant. She was sincere, gracious, and devoted. Her husband, who was a retired unpaid volunteer for the company, was tolerable in small doses. He meant well but he was close minded and disillusioned, but I chalked it up to old age.
They insisted we meet over breakfast at Denny’s to break news to me I already knew; I was getting promoted to do the job of three people. Still nobody knew I was 19.
We hired a ton of new staff, and moved some counselors between camps. We were training most of the staff on the fly, which was distracting, but we were turning around.
The change of pace left the staff re-energized, the kids re-engaged, and the parents less upset than they were. We were trending upwards, and each site had found it’s own rhythm. Considering a kid threw a chair at me on my first day at the new site, it was a fantastic improvement.
The summer continued on, and I had earned the trust of everyone in the company. Between the sustained success of the first site and the rebounding other two sites, I felt like I was making a real difference. I started to love the work I was doing.
Then the kid got left outside after soccer.
“What do you mean you left her outside?” I asked incredulously.
“We were playing soccer and I rounded them up and let them into the gym and the door locks behind you and…”
We muttered different words of disbelief in a crowded booth in the back of a 2 star Applebee’s. The counselor that left the kid outside was crying on and off. The rest of us were staff from the site, the morning shift counselors were slack jawed and the the afternoon staff shook their heads.
“Right, and this was around…?”
“2:30 we ended our activities and had snack time,” an afternoon counselor acknowledged.
The hottest part of the day in the middle of July in Arizona.
“Right, and she’s about how old?”
“Shes seven, and she was outside for like, 45 minutes,” the same counselor disclosed.
I was working at a different site, and the CEO called me before the staff could tell me. They were going to the family’s home to beg them not to press charges and I was awaiting an update.
“Do you think I’m going to be fired?” the counselor responsible whispered.
“One hundred percent,” I answered factually. She started to cry and the rest of the staff gave me a look. Sometimes I’m really bad at reading situations.
“Look, let’s all have a drink and just hope we don’t all get fired,” a different counselor said.
“Nah, I can’t,” I replied while pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers.
“Why not? You’re not the one getting fired,” the girl said between sobs.
“Because I’m 19!” I replied, forgetting my undercover identity.
“You’re ONLY 19?!” The group erupted in laughter and bought me a drink anyways.
We dodged a steaming lawsuit from the parents in exchange for free summer camp for the rest of the summer. They must have been really desperate for child care if they kept trusting us with their kids after that, but they did. The girl carried with her total immunity for the rest of the summer, and we did what she asked. Least we could do.
The summer wound to a close, and we were all exhausted deep in our cores. I transitioned from a summer camp role to a role further within the company. I was devising a fundraising plan, and taking a closer look at the books.
The money situation was no good. The money wasn’t being used appropriately, to say the least. Hundred dollar company steak dinners while our kids had broken gym equipment? I was fuming when I requested to have a serious talk with the leaders.
They insisted on having the meeting over breakfast, at their Denny’s, on the company’s dime. This is going to be an interesting discussion, I thought as I wrote out an agenda so I wouldn’t lose my train of thought when I inevitably got emotional.
“Look, I don’t know how to say this, but this breakfast, this is inappropriate.” I started.
“What do you mean? This is us, having a company meeting, and as employees for the company we can decide how our company supports us…” the old man volunteer berated.
“No, this-the hundred dollar dinners, this weird ‘consultant’ you’re paying, this is all not okay.”
“Where did you get the idea you could tell us how to spend this money?” the old man continued to grow angrier.
“When I’m implicated in fraud, I have an obligation to say something,” I retorted.
“FRAUD? You think THIS is FRAUD?” He’s now yelling at me. People in Denny’s are staring.
“Text-fucking-book fraud,” I purposefully used the F-bomb because I knew it would jarr his old ears.
“Get out. We’re done here,” he started before I interrupted him.
“Actually, you’re just a volunteer, and we’re having a company meeting,” I turned to the CEO. Surely she’s got some reason.
“If you keep doing this, there won’t be a camp next year, please, you have got to listen to me!”
“You’re FIRED! The old man bellowed and stood up and shoved his finger in my face.
“Bitch you can’t fire me you’re not even an employee!” I said, starting to unhinge.
“Either he goes, or I go,” I said to the CEO.
“ERIC!” the old man shouted for the Denny’s manager to come over, his friend from (old person activity).
“Forbes, I, look, why doesn’t everyone just calm down,” the CEO said meekly as the manager stood next to our table.
“Hey, buddy, you’re done here,” the manager said with the old man smirking behind him.
“Sure thing,” I said and I finished my coke and slid the glass to the center of the table.
“You should look up the time you can serve for fraud,” I said as my final words. The manager pushed me in the back towards the door. Don’t get arrested, don’t get arrested, don’t get arrested, I kept telling myself.
“DON’T EVER COME BACK!” the manager yelled. I let him have his moment, it was clearly a big day for him.
Some days I think about that conversation, and that Denny’s manager throwing me out, and I laugh. Summer camp scaries don’t bother me.
