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The Pounder

May 14, 2008

At one time, I worked as a camp cousellor during my summers.  This has been one of my most enduring sources of awesome stories over time, and I’m nothing but disappointed that I wasn’t a blogger then as I am now – this little corner of the internet would be nothing but filled with fantastic stories of the foibles and hijinks of the kids, the co-workers, and myself.

However, as summer begins its gradual ascention amongst the seasons, old memories begin flooding back, memories of strange things done by and to campers.

“The Pounder” is one of my faves.  This was at the second place I worked at, a camp I was far less connected to and knew next to nothing about going in.  By the time we were introduced to the pounder, I was coming to suspect that the leaders and staff were so duty-obsessed that the only thing that separated them from those sickly-sweet camp counsellors from Saturday afternoon movies was their lack of a sense of humour; the incident not only proved that wrong, but showed the other, more expected side of my co-workers. Every coucellor laughs at their campers, because as everyone who’s ever led kids knows, kids do hilarious shit. I was so relived to learn that these folks did too.

We’d just finished a staff meeting; we’d sat around, drank hot chocolate, and “planned” the upcoming day, that is, vaguely discuss the activities to happen without genuinely explaining them for the new folks while blandly reminiscing about previous staff and years.  At the end of the staff meeting, we were all heading back to our cabins and getting in the last little bit of chatter before bed when one of the leaders, having gone into his cabin for some reason, came stumbling and gasping his way out into the courtyard area, barely able to stand for his laughter. He urgently waved us over and merely gasped a bunk number, upon which we all curiously poked our heads through the door to investigate, at which point we’d respond in kind with his own.

Some kid, fast asleep, head lolled back like a ragdoll, was kneeling up against the wall on the top bunk, humping furiously.  Pounding away with audible passion, he went like a little energizer bunny, thrusting furiously and with enough force that his “Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud” could be heard outside the cabin, once we were aware of it.

Barely able to contain ourselves, we staggered over to the hall snickering and giggling the entire way.  We sat on the floor laughing ourselves senseless for a good 15 minutes, and spent another 5 trying to hold ourselves together long enough to explain what we’d seen to anyone who happened to wander in.

This was not a one-time event, either.  Every night we’d go up earlier and earlier in an attempt to catch him starting his nightly amourous ritual, and every time he’d already be going when we arrived.  We were mystified.

When asked how much rest he got, or if he’d slept well, the kid ineveitably responded that he’d slept “like a log” but didn’t feel very refreshed.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. May 21, 2008 1:15 pm

    wow! sleep humping! that’s a first!

    It had us all pretty wierded out. Seriously, how does that happn?

  2. May 27, 2008 9:46 am


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