By SMF 1999

                                                           Working at the Y, Pt. 1

So nobody would ever guessed it- Seth working at the YMCA. I can’t even stand that lousy song. My age group there is the 12-14’s (middle schoolers pretty much), a group that is not only full of raging hormones but also is at the age where you’ve gotta get a little militant or else they will walk all over a doormat.

My day usually begins with me getting up early. Now for me, I have this belief that anything before 10AM is early. Well at the Y- there are days where I am up at 6:30. Now on occasion, there are times when I am coming HOME at this hour. I am not one of those grumpy early morning folks, but I am sure as hell not Mr. Pure Positivity either. Around 10, I pick it up a little.

I am known as “Mr. Seth.” That just about kills me, I always laugh- what’s worse is I refer to the other counselors as “Mr. Matt” or “Miss Dana,” when I am around the other kids. Actually me being the cute one that I am, I say that when I see them after hours or out at night too. Mr. Seth carries a nice little clipboard (decorated Seth-style- scary thought!) which has my roster of potential suspects. Usually the crush of the day girl brings me a flower she picked out in a field or something. The kids found out that Mr. Seth didn’t have a girlfriend… now I like young girls, don’t get me wrong, but when I mean young, I mean like 19-23… Not 5-14!!!! Yes, Mr. Seth, pre-teen heartbreaker… such a cruel world.

I hate songs. I hate singing those lame-ass camp happy-happy songs that date back to like our parents time. Now every day at morning announcements, we as counselors are expected to lead songs…and do accompanying dances/gestures/etc. This I consider to be cruel and unusual punishment. Lucky for me, the camp supervisor is very open. So Mr. Seth always creates new verses for some of the songs which the kids just about love and the other counselors wonder how the hell I manage to belt them out on the spot. I am working on converting some of my drinking songs into suitable Y songs, but this has been a difficult task.

Speaking of rules, another torture I must endure is my limitation in vocabulary. Now you all know I have a pretty colorful vocab, actually I have my own little words and phrases. However in camper land, this can not occur. What’s worse is when I slip up. I’ve been nailed saying “Damn” and “hell” so far, but I did get away with a few far more explicatives (today I said something was shitty to another counselor, lucky for me the girl sitting next to me was like 5 or 6 and didn’t know what it meant, but the older kids would have had me lynched.

Lucky for me, my age group is not playing games like duck duck goose. In fact, they whine about being outside every chance they get. The new generation of kids is perfectly content with my giving them a deck of cards and slapping MTV on. If I ever need to calm the guys down, I just talk about wrestling (I have no clue what I’m talking about, but then again, I have a degree in bullshit from FAU so it has paid off) or South Park (I recently watched my first 3 episodes, granted they were part of a sinister drinking game- another story within itself!). For the girls, they like to hear about juicy gossip- mainly of who’s cute, who’s dating whom, and college life. Now of course, I have to leave out A LOT of details- I don’t think my boss would approve of me retelling past drinking adventures and conquests, nook nook, and other hedonistic endeavors.

Well this is just a part of whats to come- there will be several YMCA stories to be dealt out this summer for you all to laugh at (at me probably!). One last tidbit- I sat a kid out today for 37 minutes (a new record for my group!) because he deliberately took a basketball and nailed one of my girls in the back. His excuse- “…but it was part of the game!” What kinda game involves headhunting with basketballs? And nailing a girl? I know it’s the 90’s and all, but I never played those kinda games! Savages, I tell you!

(When Seth was younger, he preferred Spin the Bottle and 7 Minutes in Heaven. Some things never change…)

“No kids, just because someone is Mr. Seth’s age does not make her my automatic girlfriend, it’s not that easy!”