Bgbabe, (One of my # 1 favorite people in America, and also the world) has this funny little habit. It is this: BG eye fucks the shit out of complete strangers. Her eye fucking is accidental, and on most occasions, she really does not mean to do this. But, no matter where she goes, whether it is a stroll down the street, a night out with friends, or shopping in the grocery store--BG always ends up accidentally eye fucking the shit out of some unsuspecting male. I'd make a pretty safe bet and say that those opposite Becky's eye fucks are probably excited to be on the receiving end. I could never understand how one could "accidentally" eye fuck. Until tonight that is...
I was walking down Third avenue, large grocery bags in my hand, while Katy Perry and Snoop Dog blasted on my ipod. There was a boy who looked to be about fourteen years old skateboarding down the street opposite me. I was in such a daze, with a million and one things on my mind, that I didn't even realize that I was deeply staring into the eyes of someone who was probably born in 1996. It was only when I noticed a deep stare back, that I shook my head, snapped out of it, and walked at a brisk pace, avoiding any additional eye contact with any and all strangers.
All of this eye fucking talk, and the excitement of my impending weekend at Camp Schodack, made me want to share about a special Schodack experience. For all intents and purposes, let's call this experience, Dave. Dave King. Dave King was twenty years old. I was a mere seventeen. Prior to the summer of seventeen, I had suffered what could have been quite possibly the most painful awkward stage known to man. This was the first time since I was eleven years old, that I looked like a normal human.
Before Dave King, I had camp crushes, I had millions. (Most of my crushes were on people who are my best friends today, these young feelings make me laugh...and cringe). (Believe me, the feelings are mutual). Dave King was different though. I didn't grow up with him. In fact, prior to the summer of 2001, I didn't even know of his existence, other then that he was the dreamy tennis counselor, and the object of every female on camp's affection. Dave had great hair, seriously awesome man hair. Female counselors (and campers alike) were constantly vying for the attention of him (and his hair). Never once, did I think as a first year counselor, new to the Schodack staff scene, that Dave King would choose me, soon to be high school senior, as his camp girlfriend. (An aside: Shortly after camp ended, Dave turned twenty-one. I called him on his birthday, and told him that I could totally to relate to how he was feeling, being able to legally drink. After all, this year I was legally able to go to Rated R movies. Why Dave continued to talk to me after that comment, I'll never know, but thank God he did).
There we were, barely the third week of camp, we were camp boyfriend and girlfriend, and I was in "love." What did being camp boyfriend and girlfriend mean at this point in my life? Well. It simply meant; sharing dirty pube infested (not our own) hotel rooms on our days off, sitting near each other at all camp events, and most importantly--when one of us had OD (On Duty) and had to stay back to watch a bunk of children, we would sit OD together, and make out on a picnic table.
Sadly, Dave was fired from camp for providing the oldest boy campers (who were sixteen at the time and some of my best friends) with alcohol. I was crushed. My first pseudo Camp Schodack relationship had ended just as quickly as it started. Lucky for me, Dave was a "local" and lived right near camp. Dave would pick me up at night time, (on my time off), and we would see movies or go out for dinner.
Shortly after this, Dave moved to Florida, and I only saw him once more in the summer of 2002, when he met the Schodack staff out at a bar one night. Dave wrote me love (like) letters, that to date remain to be some of the nicest words a member of the opposite sex have ever said to me. So yes, I haven't seen him in eight years, and for all I know he could have gone bald or gotten fat (though somehow I sincerely doubt that) yet--his legacy remains on for me. Dave King, guy with the great hair, haven't seen him in eight years, first Schodack love. Marry me?
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