a summer camp story
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

I went to a 5 day / 4 night Girl Scouts (Girl Guides) summer camp when I was 8. All the counselors had nature names like Rocky and Squirrel. (Yes, I remember such trivial details!)

The camp had a swimming pool, so all the girls went for a swimming lesson. I had no idea we were supposed to change in our tents first, but I somehow managed to get my swimsuit on without any of the high-school/college counselor boys seeing. As we picked up our clothes to head back afterwards, one guy asked whose…errrm…underwear was sitting on the rail, in full view of everyone within 100 feet. Yup. I meekly retrieved it and was embarrassed the rest of the day!

Susie – MN

mistaken identity
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

I saw a little girl in a store once who looked a lot like my sister, Kate, did at age five.  Without even thinking about it, I  patted her on the top of her head and said: “Hi, Katie!”.  I nearly yelled when she turned around and wasn’t my sister.  To make things even weirder, my sister hadn’t been five in quite some time, say, ten years!  The little girl was perfectly fine with the case of mistaken identity.  Her mother, on the other hand, looked at me rather askance, especially when I tried to explain that I’d mistaken her daughter for my little sister who was now fifteen!

Rachel – NH

it's pat!
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

When I was a teenager I went to a Summer camp. The first night we had a big get together where everyone could get to know each other really quickly. The staff told us to go find someone in the room who we did not know at all. We would ask them some questions and then introduce that person to the rest of the group. I was too nice sometimes. I saw this person who was sitting all alone. I had never met them, and clearly no one was going that direction, so I did. I shook hands and realized that I couldn’t tell if this was a girl or a boy. No problem…they had to have a name. I asked. The response: some made up name of gender neutral syllables. Oh no. The voice was even kinda ambiguously monotone. I was getting really nervous. I had to present the person to the room, but how do you do that without gender specific pronouns? I pressed in with my awesome problem solving skills. I needed gender specific questions. I tried asking things about hobbies and likes that might help or produce a long winded answer with some clear gender clues. Maybe she liked horses? Maybe he played football? Nope. We had like thirty more seconds, and I could only get one or two word answers. Yes, this person loved their mom. Hmm…this person likes music. Yep. I’m stuck. My last chance was that the staff would reveal it as we walked up with a “these two boys are next.” or “Micah from South Carolina and a new girl from Texas!” No such luck. I stumbled through as quickly as possible trying to be funny to cover it up. “This person’s name is ______. They like music and love their mom!” It worked. I had offended no one. At worst, I sounded like a moron, but moron is better than jerk. I found out a day or two later that she was a girl. We never became friends.

Micah the Admin

don't jump!
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

When I was a teenager, I really wanted to jump off the Orford-Fairlee Bridge into the river, but my mother talked me out of it.  “It’s too high and you could break your neck,” she said.  “Besides, there could be old bridge posts you could land on.”

Shortly thereafter, I was just about to take a walk across the bridge when I saw about a dozen young (and handsome) guys standing on the other side of the rail, about to jump.  Eager to save their lives, I began running as fast as I could,  yelling: “Don’t jump!  Don’t jump!  You could die!”

They politely refrained from jumping until I reached them.  Grinning, one of them asked me why he shouldn’t jump.  I repeated what my mother had said.  Trying valiantly not to laugh, the guys told me they’d already jumped off the bridge several times and it was perfectly safe.  A hot blush flooded my face, but I tried to play it cool.  “Oh, carry on then,” I said.  I was almost out of earshot when they burst into guffaws.

The moral of this story is: Don’t listen to your mother.

Rachel – NH

napoleon who?
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

The first time I ever went trick-or-treating was the second year of our marriage. I was so excited. Beth dressed up in an Indian Sari and was beautiful. We also had a girl we babysat who was dressed as a very cute little pirate. I decided that I would be Napoleon Dynamite from the incredibly popular indie film. I thought it was popular. I put on tight tapered jeans, a baggy purple shirt with a neon dolphin, moon boots, a fanny pack, thick Coke-bottle glasses, a digital watch and had my hair gelled up into a curly fro. I looked like Napoleon Dynamite. We were happy and set to go. The three of us piled into our car and began going house to house. I realized after one house that some people hadn’t seen the movie. After two or three houses I began to understand that NO ONE in New Hampshire had seen the movie. Then I started to think about how creepy I must look – like the guy you’d never want to sit beside on a bus. I got weird look after weird look and didn’t even try to explain what I was. I just accepted the fact that people would be slightly disgusted and happy that my wife and our little pirate got smiles and candy. The night eventually ended.

Micah the Admin

an indian in a store
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

My friends and I love to do costume parties. Once for my friend’s birthday party we dressed up as Indians (Native American not India – and it was OK all you politically correct people because the birthday boy was Native American and we had a huge NO PILGRIMS poster on the front door). I went all out. Like crazy. I’m the one on the right standing up. I was most obviously costumed. On the way to the party we decided we needed to grab a disposable camera, so I decided to work up the courage to walk into a gas station and buy one. Beth refused to go in with me. Maybe instead of complete humiliation it would be fun and possibly cheer up the cashier. Nope! I walked in. No response. I found the camera and went to the cashier. I smiled. She raised apathetic eyes and told me the price. Is she a robot? She never smiled, raised an eyebrow, chuckled or anything. All she accomplished was making me feel a bit more awkward.

Micah the Admin

a dumb plan
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

Oh, haha. This was SO awkward but still funny, I have two sisters and two brothers and our family live really close, always phone each other, chat on-line etc. blah, blah, blah.
I’m the only one who doesn’t have kids so *sometimes* when my sisters phone me I’ll just be in my house reading or doing some work or whatever and I have a pretty short attention span, well….SOMETIMES, actually quite often either they or my mum will phone me and get me on the phone and just talk and talk about something that I’d get quite bored with after a while, I’ve never been good at getting out of boring conversations, like I’d just be a ‘Yeah? Really? Wow? No way?’ type person but one day I hit on this amazing idea, I only have a mobile so I decided that if I was in the middle of a conversation I couldn’t pay attention to I would just hang up and pretend the reception went dead, I was so pleased with myself and I started doing this quite often, then one day my sister was talking and I knew I had to go out so I hung up the phone, but I actually didn’t, I only thought I had, she could still hear the radio in the background….so she phones me back two minutes later and she’s like ‘Tanya….’ in this really exasperated voice…..’Will you STOP hanging up on everyone ALL THE TIME!’ I was like ‘What no, no, no my reception just went dead O_O’ …and she’s like ‘No it didn’t! You hang up on us all the time! You’ve been doing it for ages, it’s because you can’t pay attention! Everybody knows and they laugh about it all the time but will you just stop doing it now……!’……I was like..’Uh…oh. Really? ReeeallllY??? Seriously? Noooo. Oh. Hmmmm.’ ……Plan = dumb. :O

Tanya – Belfast

i knew a hans once
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

I used to work at a group home for the mentally ill. I was helping a very sweet client in her late 50’s or early 60’s shop. From the way she dressed and carried herself, any observer could tell she was a little “off”. We were standing in line and I was a little ahead of her. She (let’s just call her “Lisa” struck up a conversation with a much younger man behind her. It went approximately like this:

Lisa: Hi! What’s your name?

Man: Hans.

Lisa: I knew a “Hans” once, in the foothills of an Alpine village in Austria. –I haven’t been with a man in 13 years!

Hans (taken aback, but seizing the opportunity): So… is anyone taking care of you now? Is there anyone who would mind if you came home with me?

Lisa: Oh, no! But you see that tall girl in front of us? (I turn around and treat Hans to a knowing, sinister smile). She’d get REALLY mad if I went home with you.

I look him up and down, sneer slightly, and turn away. Hans turns bright red and stares at his shoes, embarrassed to have just been caught trying to pick up and older mentally ill lady.

I loved that job!

Pamela – CA

chili spill
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

Aargh :O …this was one of the long term awkward memories that really affected my life when I was a kid, when I was in first form(12) we had made one day in Home Economics Chili Con Carne…I’d never made it before so I was really excited and it all went great and my chili looked spectacular and we let it cool and I packed it up in a tupperware and headed for the bus home. So there was no room in my bag for the tupperware, it was like a litre sized tub full of chili and I had to bring home my lever arch folder as well which was also really heavy AND I had to get all the way home on the bus, so I survived the shove of everyone getting on the bus(no-one queued they just sardined in through the door, it was scary!)and the bus journey back home(our buses drop us in the middle of our town and then you walk home) so my town is quite small, like everyone in it knows what you’ve done five mins after you do it and on the way home is a big stationery/bookshop that I would always go into after school and read books in, instead of just trying to get home with this giant tub of chili I go into the bookshop and start reading the books, I settle for holding my folder flat against my hip like a tray and putting the tub of chili on top while I used my other hand to flick through the books…oh I know this is so predictable right!? So of course, in a split second I go to put back a book, the polyester of my jumper against the plastic of my folder makes the folder slide up against my body so the tub flips over spins once in the air, hits the GREY CARPET, the lid flies off and my chili splatters all over the floor. I was actually fully freaking out, like no no NO! The shop is full(4.30 in the afternoon) there are some girls from another school laughing their heads off(not literally ;)) and then I see the manager coming storming toward me with a look of thunder, I’m like ok it’s no big deal I’ll apologise, help clean it up…LOL!! My flight from flight or fight took over and in about five seconds I decide to just bolt out the door BUT instead of just running out and leaving the giant pile of chili(I am nearly crying laughing remembering this) I THROW my folder on the floor use my ARM to scrape the majority of the chili into the tupperware and then run past the hysterical girls as fast as I physically can, out the door and straight down the street with a giant lidless tub of chili until I get home and spend the next hour trying to scrub con carne off my blazer while gasping for breath, ok, then when I actually calm down and stop freaking I realise I’m going to have to go back for my folder with my name inside and the next day have to walk past the ruined grey carpet with a GIANT damp patch, some poor person had the scrub of their life on and apologise for dropping my chili and doing a bunk to a *really* hacked off manager and then spent the next year, possibly two avoiding the place. Huuuuuahmph. O_O

Tanya – Belfast

»  Substance:WordPress   »  Style:Ahren Ahimsa