Mormon Church Camp and High Fives
I have to say this before I launch into this... I would say story, but that wouldn't get the point across, mainly because "story" doesn't imply "FUCKING AWESOME!" in it. I have never felt as bad ass in any given point in my life, mainly because this was the first time I grew balls and said "Fuck you" to the man. An epic tale such as this can only take place in few regions this world has to offer, such as Buddhist temples with 200 year old monks ready to beat my ass for trespassing on holy ground, or Area 51 (of which I have infiltrated successfully thanks to Wikipedia) after a long journey through time and space where I discovered the world isn't what everyone thinks it to be, and I'm here to reveal the truth and assassinate the president (at given time, Barack Obama). But neither of these situations are where this legend has been established. This story took place in the only place this world could handle... Mormon Church Camp, better known as Especially For Youth (EFY).
For those of you who are unaware, I grew up in a Mormon family (my story has nothing to do with the religion, and I have no comment about the religon, so DON'T ASK STUPID QUESTIONS). When you have lived a shitty life for your first consecutive 14 years, you are allowed the "privilege" (if you are Mormon or invited by one and promise not to do "heathen" things) to attend EFY, which is where people between the ages of 14-18 (sometimes 19 year old losers make it in too) come together and spend a week at one of many college campuses that host it and talk about God and Joseph Smith (if you don't fucking know, Google it). The first year I went, I was, indeed, a good Mormon boy, had done nothing wrong in my life, and thought since I masturbated and said the words "fuck" and "shit" on a once a month basis I was going to burn in hell.
Now I know some of you are asking yourself the question "What the hell happened to b'Rock? Why did he become such an asshole?" Video games, pornography, and the discovery that I don't care what people think about me all lead to the guy you know as b'Rock.
Although I was good my first year, it was the second that I had began to retaliate. Yes, I started playing video games that involved murdering loads of innocent women and children, I started watching porn, and I realized that people were idiots and their opinion (of me) didn't matter to me. Wow! I did all of that in a year?! Absofuckinglutely. And this is when people started to like me, and I discovered I had an opinion, and started thinking about life's troubling questions.
This is also when I became an asshole.
Year two was annoying, but I made it through with a friend that was semi-like me, just not as cool and he didn't sneak into a girls dorm room later that night with me to get drunk and almost have sex. Yeah, I was 15 then, and I didn't have the game nor the guts to have my way with the girl I met 2 hours earlier, but I did get a blowjob, and that is all that matters. I got in a shit load of trouble for kissing her earlier that night, to which I told the camp counselor to fuck his grandmother. I literally said that. I don't know why he never punished/told on me, but he was cool enough not to, so I like him. I guess this would be a good time to confess the story I've hidden for so long, and if you guys ever read this, THIS is what happened.
Year three rolled around, and I had moved away from Seattle and came to the shit pit of Mobile, AL. Well, Mobile isn't all that bad, but its no Seattle, so when my parents offered me to go to Seattle and visit my friends if I spent a week at EFY, I agreed. A week at EFY and a week with my friends was a good deal to me.
I arrived in Seattle sometime in mid-July. I was picked up by a fellow rebel Mormon friend of mine (who is no longer a rebel, he ended up becoming a missionary and going to a different country, of which I do not know, he's a really good guy now). We will call him "Tank."
Tank had just been caught smoking weed by his parents, and the Mormon church doesn't take that too lightly either. He was in a lot of trouble for it and his parents thought a week with b'Rock at EFY would be a spiritual experience. I don't know what the fuck his parents were thinking, but they loved me.
I was in Seattle for a day before we made our way to Puget Sound University (PSU) where EFY was held. Me and Tank chilled until then, and upon arrival I was reunited with many of my friends, including "Jake," who had also been a Mormon rebel. "JB" was also there, Tank's little brother.
Let me reiterate: MORMON CHURCH CAMP BLOWS. This was nothing fun to say the least. Everyone was all religious and chicks don't put out when they are thinking about God. We arrived on a Monday and it was the longest Monday of my life. There is only one good thing about that Monday that I remember, and it was the women. Mormon girls are, UNARGUABLY, the hottest things this planet has to offer. If these women were in pornography, Ron Jeremy wouldn't know who to put his penis in first. He would be simply flabbergasted. But, with the hot comes the cock block. They don't put out as afore mentioned. It's really hard to find the girls that will, but those Mormon girls that DO... they are rebelling, and it's not even so much that you are cute as it is they want to really piss their controlling parents off.
I digress. Back to the story.
Monday was terrible. There is a point to Monday though that made this story worth writing.
We were at lunch, all four of us, and there were a couple of girls at the table who had decided to join us. For some reason they weren't too fond of me, probably because I was flicking grapes at people with my silverware catapult and swearing an obsessive amount, wishing I was drunk. Mormon girls really don't like me very much, they are all about the sweet and caring guy. Tank was definitely that guy, so women ogled over him the entire week. I didn't care though, if they weren't putting out, I wasn't putting up with them, and we were both happy.
Next to our table, the head honcho of EFY was eating. He was the head camp counselor. I wish I could remember his name, but I can't, not that I could post it anyway, so for the purposes of the story, we will call this jackass "Cheater."
Cheater had been sitting with someone who, clearly, was not a Mormon. The guy had tattoos (something Mormons don't support getting, but don't say it's a sin), he was drinking a beer (something Mormons DEFINITELY don't allow), and had a few piercings. But he wasn't a counselor, and too old to be a guest. I over heard their conversation:
Cheater: "Oh yeah, I cheat on my wife all the time."
Tattoo guy: "Really? I haven't, don't think I ever would either."
Cheater: "Give it 20 years, she will get to you and not be worth the fucking effort. Cheating keeps marriages sane."
See the resemblance behind his name?
This mother fucker seriously said that. I couldn't believe my ears. I might be a complete asshole, I might say a LOT of mean things, but when I am in a relationship, I stay true no matter what (I cheated ONCE on a technicality, I didn't know we were boyfriend and girlfriend), and the person I get married to (if that ever happens...?) I could never do that to.
And this fucker is FLAUNTING it. And he's the HEAD CAMP COUNSELOR.
But I'm not one to get into peoples business, so I didn't say shit. We went, put up our trays in the cafeteria, and we were walking to the door, right where Cheater was sitting next to.
Cheater: "Fuck dude, it's all about getting laid. Getting pussy is EASY!"
He said the pussy part pretty loud, and it made me stop and look at him. He looked back, with a look of shock and awe. He was completely perplexed at what to say.
b'Rock: "I heard the whole thing."
Cheater: "The WHOLE thing?"
b'Rock: "Yeah."
I paused.
b'Rock: "I'm not going to say anything dude."
I turned and walked away. If not for this moment in time, I would have been Fucked later in the story, not in the good kind of way either (remember, I'm in church camp). The rest of the day was uneventful.
This is where the story gets juicy.
Tuesday comes, and there's always a dance every Tuesday and Friday at any EFY. They were fun other than the fact that when you dance with a girl you must be far enough apart to fit a bible between the both of you, and yes, there are counselors everywhere waiting for someone to bust a bump and grind. Even popping and locking it is a sin. No shit.
Before the dance, Jake had called us to a meeting. Alas, in his room awaited what would become the highlight of my trip to EFY, and made me so happy I nearly peed in my pants.
Sour Apple Vodka, 99 Proof.
Normally not my drink of choice, but given my shituation ( I spelled that correctly), I didn't care. JB and Tank decided it would be a good idea to sit this one out, but me and Jake were game. We drank the entire fifth, which was full, in under... 15 minutes between the two of us.
Before I open the door, I'm giggling like a little school girl who just lost her virginity to a guy who ejaculated prematurely and had the penis of an asian stereotype, and I was stumbling all over the place. I vaguely remember going down the stairs outside Jake's room, but I do remember that I didn't do it voluntarily. Let's just say that gravity made me do it.
The dance was soon. We go outside and we sat at a table near our rooms. Two smoking hot girls walk up to us and start talking to us. One actually digs me, which was odd, so I'm supposing she's one of the more rebellious Mormons, but I wasn't ready to test those waters within the first 10 minutes of meeting her. Mormons are sensitive to that stuff. They told us to find them at the dance, and we agreed, the one hotter one pointing to me especially. She walked away, and it was at that moment that I realized that 1.) I couldn't remember her name and 2.) I thought I was drunk before, but now the booze is REALLY kicking in...
We had to meet with our groups (at EFY you're put into groups, and it sucked because this year there were only 3 hot girls in our group. One was digging Tank, but she had a twin who was ugly. I let Tank deal with his hot one and I was his faithful Wingman, and the ugly one ended up really wanting me. The other 2 hotties in our group were complete bitches, but also were digging Tank. He ended up going with the hot twin, Props to you Tank), and we had to escort the ladies to the dance. I know what you're thinking, "b'Rock actually escorted a girl?" Yes I did. And she could smell the alcohol in my breath, and she thought I was the funniest thing since Johnny Bravo. She kissed me on the cheek. I wish I could remember her name and what she looked like. And on a side note, ladies and gentleman, b'Rock DOES have a romantic side to him. It doesn't come out very often, mainly because he's only romantic when he's in a deep relationship, but b'Rock can be a gentleman at given times, believe it or not.
As another side note, I was everything but a gentleman escorting this girl to the dance. I can't remember why she liked me so much. Maybe I was funny.
We got onto the dance floor, and I accidentally found the hot girl I was talking to before.
This is where I blacked out.
I wake up scared shit-less. I didn't know where I was, how I got there, what I had done, nothing. I look around, and I realized we were in our room, me and Tank. I look at him, then the clock. It's 4 AM. He's awake, why I don't know. I look at him and say "dude what the fuck did I do?"
He starts laughing hysterically, and says I'll find out exactly what I did in about 3 hours. I passed back out. Thank God I wasn't hung over.
We get dressed at 7, and the first thing that happens when I walk out of our room is some guy I hadn't met looked at me and said "It's THE HIGH FIVE GUY!" and he puts his hand up for a high five. Out of confusion, I gave him a half ass'd high five. We walked outside of our building, going to eat breakfast, and there were 3 girls outside. They also referred to me as the "High Five Guy" and demanded high fives, to which I was unenthused to give. We had not walked another 50 yards before another mother fucker wanted a high-fucking-five.
What the hell was going on? We finally get to eat breakfast amongst armies of people who wanted high fives. It was there that JB informed me that I had walked around all night giving everyone I saw a high five. Counselors, kids, old people, everybody. I excluded no one, and it was my guess that all those people knew I was drunk. I also had apparently cock blocked Jake, because he was talking to some really hot girl who I can barely picture in my head and I had put my arm around him and yelled "DUDE! IM SO FUCKING WASTED RIGHT NOW!" She found this unattractive. He later mentioned it was cool because she was a devout Mormon girl, so it wasn't like she was going to put out anyways. Had she been a slut and I cock blocked him, I probably would have felt 2% bad.
This is the shitty part of the story.
All of us were sitting there after breakfast outside, when a really ugly girl came up to me and asked if she could talk to me for a second. I said sure, whatever. The longer we talked, the more I realized who she was. This was the girl who I thought was extremely hot when I was wasted the night before. I had to ask the first question that came to my mind.
b'Rock: "Oh my God, tell me we didn't hook up..."
She didn't take to kindly to this comment, but nonetheless she didn't walk away. She kept asking if I was drunk, and of course I denied it. She said that she didn't care if I was or not, but I am a man, and I don't give in to women and their manipulating ways. Deny, Deny, Deny, and thus I did so. We had made our way to the back side of the campus, where she tried to kiss me. I immediately turned and left when I saw her coming in for the kill. It was at this point in my life that I realized I needed to be careful with who I hit on whilst wasted. I now often bring a friend who is less drunk than me to tell me if they're hot or not.
And one more thing about this girl. I found out her name while we were walking.
Bough.
YES! Bough.
How fucking manly is that? It'll give you insight to how she looked and acted, her name reflected who she was perfectly.
Me and the guys goofed around until about 11 that Wednesday. I can't remember what I was doing but I told the guys I would catch up with them in a little bit. I went back to my room, and it was here that a counselor was awaiting my arrival.
She said: "I'm here to escort you to the Head Counselor's office."
First thought, "oh shit." Second thought, "I'm being escorted?" So I made her hold out her arm as an escort would, I wrapped around it, and we left. She thought I was cute, and I don't think she knows why she was escorting me, because we had a good time the whole way to Cheater's office. She was hot and really cool, and I'd totally date her, even to this day.
Yes, I knew exactly why I was in Cheater's office. I had been caught, and they were going to inform my parents. It's a little deeper than that though.
Cheater: "So how was the dance last night?"
b'Rock: "Good." I was trying to be short with him.
Cheater: "...We know what you were doing last night. You were drinking."
Shit. What am I going to do?
Cheater: "Tell us where you got it or who you got it from, and this won't be so hard."
b'Rock: "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
Deny, deny, deny.
Turns out they were searching my room and all my stuff at that given moment. They trashed all my stuff, flipped my mattress, everything. All I had though was clothes and a CD player and some food. That was it. Jake had brought the alcohol, and I was worried they would search him for hanging out with me so much, but they didn't. After 45 minutes of him trying to pry it out of me:
Cheater: "If you don't tell us, we are going to call your parents."
This pissed me off. I had been in there nearly an hour and now he's threatening me?
Two can play that game, Mister. I said this next line so smooth and so calm that I truly feel like a bad ass to this day for it.
b'Rock: "If you call my parents, I'll tell your wife you're cheating on her."
Did I forget to mention that his WIFE was there all week? Fuck Yes.
He looked at me, realized that I had something on him and he had something on me. We sat in silence for a good 3 minutes. He looked down and asked "Do you have a way out of here?" I told him my buddy (my best friend in the whole world, we will call him "Pete") could be here in two hours.
Cheater: "Four o'clock. If you aren't gone by fucking four o'clock, neither one of us are going to be happy."
Pete arrived at 2. We went, ate lunch (I had to sneak him in so he could eat for free like me) and we were gone by 2:30. I arrived in Seattle by 4:30, and I had one of the greatest weeks of my life, getting hammered and hooking up with girls who's names I couldn't remember, playing poker in some rich guys house that we were house sitting for, all sorts of trouble and I had a really great time.
Cheater could have told my parents after I left. I wasn't there anymore to tell his wife what he had said, and he could have told my parents the whole story about giving everyone high fives and making a complete ass of myself on the dance floor. But he never did. He never said anything about it to them.
3 days at EFY for a week and a half with my friends was an even better deal.
b'Rock, out.