The Guy from Camp
Have I ever told you about the guy from camp last year? It isn’t anything and it wasn’t then either. But, I sure hoped it would have been.
Every good story and musical starts at the beginning, so I guess I should start there too. I first met him at a little meet & greet for all of the camp staff for the summer. To be honest, he was weird and unnecessarily smart. He knew like a million and a half things, and like half of them were classic cars. When he wasn’t spouting off random facts, he always seemed to be looking for the darkest and emptiest corner or trying to leave any gathering that had more than two people. And, and, and, he like never ever talked.
I talk all the time! It was like pulling teeth from a person with a migraine fully conscious! It was a successful interaction if I could conjure up questions that required more than a two syllable reponse. Long story, short–he was too closed off for me to even stop long enough and see deeper than his latest YouTube tutorial review on crafted stage weapons.
Once camp started, since we worked for different majors, I didn’t see him much. The high school symphonic orchestra librarian doesn’t have a schedule at all similar to the theatre prop master and assistant combat instructor, except for meals on the opposite side of camp. I didn’t really notice him until we were having full cast and crew rehearsals for the camp’s annual musical. This year, a true classic, West Side Story. We may not be in New York, but everyone can relate to high school love. Okay, almost everyone. I can guess what it would have been like seeing as I got my GED at 16 to do a pre-college music program.
We still didn’t really talk. Not until we were in tech week. Also known as utter chaos on- and off-stage, tech week is the giant lamp that shines on a beautiful chandelier or a broken mirror. Out show looked more like a broken mirror that someone had tried to put back together but had broken into even smaller pieces, and then mysteriously burned. Half of the Jets were realising how hard it actually is to stage-fight and project simultaneously, and half of the pit orchestra clearly didn’t understand what “vamp” means. And, what more universal way of bonding is there than talking about work stress?
The first night a lot of the camp staff that was involved with the show, sat in the staff house and complained, gave very lackluster encouragement, and went to sleep. I stayed because I had work to do and it was already lights out in my cabin. He just sat in a corner on his phone, probably researching about today’s random topic of the day, because he is the epitome of a night owl. So, after a lot of mental frustration, I asked him to go on my cabin rounds with me, just to have some silent company. Then, we went back and just talked and talked and talkied. It felt like maybe an hour had past, but it was actually 10 minutes past 4 A.M. Praise God, we had a late rehearsal scheduled and no orchestra that day! I went to my cabin and laid in bed thinking up a billion what-ifs.
The second time, he showed me around the prop closet. Being me, I kept pulling things out and asking questions which somehow led to dress-up and a “fashion show.” I’ve never cosplayed or really understood why people would want to, but I get it, a little bit more now.
The third time, both of our cabins had a mixer, which meant us camp staff were glorified chaperones for the 14-18 year olds scoping out and claiming any love prospects.
But, the last time happened just after strike. He seemed super moody, so I called him out on it. He said if I really wanted to know, I at least needed to take the time to hear him out. I told him to come to the basement of the music department, because I was filing all the parts and scores back into the music library. We talked like no time had passed, even thought it had been nearly a month.
I was kind of into him, he may have been into me, but the timing was just all wrong, especially since camp was ending the next day.