Work Stories: Assistant Ranger at a Scout Camp

Of the seven or so camps in the Council I worked for, only two camps had staff nicknames. The other camp always names their staff after items on the Steak-n-Shake menu. I have no idea why, but because of that we had a few staffers who worked their previously that retained their edible names, which were Portobello, Peppercorn, and Orange Freeze.

For my camp, most everyone has a story behind theirs. Mine came because my closest coworker and I both watch Rooster Teeth's web series Red Vs Blue, in which included the fan-favorite character Caboose. I can best describe him as an adult with the mind of a four-year-old. None of the other characters fit my personality the first week (I had to be named before campers arrived the second week), so Caboose it was. That name bit me in the ass a bit more than I bargained for. More on that later.

Every other day or so our Program Director Jar-Jar (clumsy his first year) would hold staff gatherings for various housekeeping things we were responsible for. Rarely did we have a meeting, since they had food apparently. This prompted an entire debate of what each type of gathering had in addition to people. For example, a shindig has music and a compromise has 3/5th of the people there for a reason. Some sort of race joke can be put there. I have an entire page of similar descriptions if people ask for it.

Several of the Ranger vehicles have been damaged while I was driving, most infamously our red diesel truck. I have "broken" two large lawnmowers, the red diesel, and our white pickup. The two lawnmowers I don't know how it happened. I know I hit a stump with the pickup and dented the front bumper. But the red diesel, I hit a post when I was steering away from a tree. In my defense, I couldn't see the post because of how high my seat was. Yet, I hit the post going maybe five miles per hour and dented it right in front of the right back wheel. My boss found out and because I didn't report it, that was automatically two strikes against me. I was forever terrified of getting fired after that.

Now, because of my namesake, I always answered my radio with "Go for the vehicle destroyer". After the diesel incident, I answered with "Go for Church's best friend". Less incriminating that way.

Jar-Jar was an asshole. Like, I really didn't like him, and he never liked me. After my coworker Bambi's (had two incidents with a deer) contract ended halfway through the summer, I took over his duties. I like to think I'm a quick learner, so I picked up that slack really quickly. On the last evening campfire I had to do, I was moving a sound system from a warehouse to a sound booth at the campfire ring. When I was setting up, Mufasa (who I really liked, the dude was awesome) was helping out and asked Jar-Jar where things went. The above conversation was occurred and I was pissed off. I don't really mind jabs to my personal life or my interests, but insulting my ability to do my job is one of things I really hated, especially when I knew how to do it. Jar-Jar rather frequently did this, and it really pissed me off.

I like to think I'm smart, and Bambi is a pretty smart dude. We played Rock-Paper-Scissors (best two out of three) to decide who cleaned it up. He won the first round, I won the second. I was really nervous, and unsure which I should play. I usually play randomly, but the stakes demanded me to think about it, in the three seconds going from "1" to "shoot", I accurately predicted that he would play rock. So I played paper and won. This may seem like nonsense, but the repercussions make it better.

I was proud that I "outsmarted" Bambi and I told a few of my coworkers. Mufasa (the really awesome dude) overheard my bragging. He then told two other Cub Scout packs to say whenever they saw Bambi that "Paper beats rock". At ending campfire that day, the two packs went on stage when they were queued and actually told him that in front of everyone else. Which was hilarious for Bambi and me.

The next morning, Bambi and I walk into the dining hall and where Bambi usually sits was rock on the table with a napkin covering it, "Bambi" written on the napkin. Even our boss joined in and actually radioed Bambi, just to tell him that paper beats rock.

Mufasa was awesome.

I have a small lawn at home, so I use a simple push mower to mow. I hate it and it takes three hours. At camp, I use a big riding mower with a huge engine. At a glorious eight miles per hour, I mow large fields listening to my music. It's glorious and I love it. When I left work a final time, I told my boss that if he ever needed someone to mow the grass he could just hit me up. That's how eager I was.

We had no Internet connection, so we could only play local multiplayer on a few games that other people brought. One night Google (encyclopedia of trivia), Samwise (came with someone named Frodo), and Ultron (last name was Stark) were playing a party gametype in Black Ops II called Gun Game. For those unfamiliar, the gametype starts you off with a pistol and after every kill you get, you advance along a list of twenty weapons, advancing from pistols, shotguns, assault rifles, light machine guns, sniper rifles, and rocket launchers. We played an edited version in which every time you get knifed or kill yourself, you fall back ten weapons, which gave incentive to knife everyone when they got around 14 or 15 kills. I joined in one night, desperate to play a video game with other people, and I kicked ass. Every time we played Gun Game, I kicked lots of ass. Maybe everyone else sucked, but I felt good.

One night I saw some kids trying to start a fire with flint and steel. For those who are unfamiliar, lighting a fire with flint and steel is extremely difficult. I'd rather play all three Dark Souls games without lighting bonfires than do this, if that gives you any indication. So, I decided to help them out. I grabbed my own fire starting kit to see if I can help. Unfortunately, I found out that I hadn't restocked my own kit, so I had one piece of charcloth (charred cloth that is highly flammable) and some sort of tinder that I forgot what it was. I tried helping them, and under my "tutelage" every kid got twenty or thirty strikes with the flint and steel. No fire that night. I hated myself for not being prepared enough, since it's the fucking BSA motto. But what's done is done.