It was church camp. I think I was 13 the first year I went. I had a roommate named Brooke Mills. We had never met. I can't even remember where she was from, but we had matching sheets. It was a funny thing. My mom bought me sheets specifically for going to camp and they were yellow and white striped. What strange twist of fate caused Brooke and her mom to go shopping for camp and pick out the exact same sheets?
We had a blast being roomies. We shaved our legs in bed during horizontal hour. We talked about boys. We stayed up as late as we could past lights out laughing and singing together. We even became parners in crime to a small degree. We caught two of the counselors making out on the sofa next to our room and we used this to blackmail them into letting us break a few rules.
That first year at camp we went skiing and did lots of crafts and singing and dancing and we went to the movies. We had bug juice every day with our meals. We had mail call every day at lunch. It was every thing you expect from your first camp experience and more. We had a really amazing communion service that I'll never forget. We sang Kumbaya while carrying lit candles up the four three story stairways of the lodge and took CocaCola and potato chips for communion. It really was a spiritual experience for me.
And I met a boy. His name was Doug and he asked me to dance one night. While we were slow dancing he whispered to me, "You have the hip swing of a hula dancer". I figured that must be a compliment and I felt really admired. The next time we took a walk around the lake he kissed me. Imagine that. I had two spiritual experiences in one trip to summer camp.
Doug was from Indian Rocks Beach. I hope he is living happily ever after. He was a great kisser.