Each year the company I work for has an end of the year "employee gathering." It has been held, since I have worked for the company, at Camp Spaulding--a summer camp for kids. Usually there is a TON of food, organized games, contests, and free time in which the President of the company encourages us to "explore each other playfully." (That is in quotes!) This year was no exception.
The whole shin-dig started off well, with human bingo, followed by a 15 minute moral-boosting plug by the President and COO, and then we were free to do as we pleased. I immediately teamed up with a friend from Street Outreach/Teen Services, Angie, for the water balloon toss. It went well; we won a $10 gift card to Shaw's. I hate to lose and shamefully admit to being "ultra competitive" even at water balloons! (*Picture above shows me with the winning balloon, who Angie and I named "Hermie.") Then we all ate. And ate. And ate. (I felt much like Pooh bear at the honey tree.) After lunch, while we were still milling around the dessert table when clearly many of us should have stopped eating, one of the program managers asked me if I wanted to do the canoe race. Being athletic and an avid kayak-er I asked- "should one win, what is the prize?" I was feeling rather bloated from dessert, so I wanted to know exactly how worth my while this race would be. Her response was "a half-day off." Okay, I'm in.
When we lined up to make our track down to the water, I was sizing up my opponents. I pretty much knew I had almost everyone beat. There was one team I was concerned about, which coincidentally was my ex-supervisor who I knew jogged daily and lived on a lake where she would canoe/kayak frequently. My hope was my partner, Bill- the VP of the company, he looked pretty brawny.
Once in the canoe, I reverted into the beast one often encounters on the soccer field, or across the Monopoly board. I told Bill that he had better paddle like hell. The first heat went well, we were beat by a fraction. Literally a fraction, by the team I suspected was going to win (they had better team-work.) So following the first heat, Bill and I had a chance to strategize. I gave him a small pep-talk that basically consisted of me telling him that he could probably row better if he took the cigar out of his mouth, and I cautioned him about my violent mood swings when I lose something in which I am clearly the favorite to win.
We were pumped for the second heat which would be the two best racers from each heat. But there was a catch... someone in the boat had to be blind-folded. A small detail I knew I could work around... I had no problem screaming out orders and rowing us if Bill could just work at being a "blind rudder." About 30 seconds into the final heat, and me screaming like a crazy woman, Bill and I some how managed to capsize and plunge deep into the frigid waters of the Contoocook River. Now, to some that may not sound so bad. But let me tell you, I was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, a white tee-shirt. Our overturned boat filled up with water, and I was stationed directly underneath it trying to fondle my way to the top without losing my Calvin Klein sunglasses and contact lenses. Once at the surface and gasping for air, the cold water chilled my body to the core and immediately I thought, "I wonder if we got back in and paddled like hell- if we would still have a chance?" But it was a metal canoe filled with water, and we were out too deep to have any leverage to try to make the situation right. So we were forced to do the "swim of shame" back to the dock dragging a capsized boat all the while me, hanging on to the oars, a life-jacket I haphazardly threw in the boat as an afterthought, and Bill's waterlogged cigar. (what? like I was going to leave it in the river to pollute the aquatic life.)
I lost the race and my dignity, but made a memory and I think earned a little of Bill's respect as he seemed amused and surprised by the comprehensive list of profanities that comprised my vocabulary the entire swim back to the dock.
The whole shin-dig started off well, with human bingo, followed by a 15 minute moral-boosting plug by the President and COO, and then we were free to do as we pleased. I immediately teamed up with a friend from Street Outreach/Teen Services, Angie, for the water balloon toss. It went well; we won a $10 gift card to Shaw's. I hate to lose and shamefully admit to being "ultra competitive" even at water balloons! (*Picture above shows me with the winning balloon, who Angie and I named "Hermie.") Then we all ate. And ate. And ate. (I felt much like Pooh bear at the honey tree.) After lunch, while we were still milling around the dessert table when clearly many of us should have stopped eating, one of the program managers asked me if I wanted to do the canoe race. Being athletic and an avid kayak-er I asked- "should one win, what is the prize?" I was feeling rather bloated from dessert, so I wanted to know exactly how worth my while this race would be. Her response was "a half-day off." Okay, I'm in.
When we lined up to make our track down to the water, I was sizing up my opponents. I pretty much knew I had almost everyone beat. There was one team I was concerned about, which coincidentally was my ex-supervisor who I knew jogged daily and lived on a lake where she would canoe/kayak frequently. My hope was my partner, Bill- the VP of the company, he looked pretty brawny.
Once in the canoe, I reverted into the beast one often encounters on the soccer field, or across the Monopoly board. I told Bill that he had better paddle like hell. The first heat went well, we were beat by a fraction. Literally a fraction, by the team I suspected was going to win (they had better team-work.) So following the first heat, Bill and I had a chance to strategize. I gave him a small pep-talk that basically consisted of me telling him that he could probably row better if he took the cigar out of his mouth, and I cautioned him about my violent mood swings when I lose something in which I am clearly the favorite to win.
We were pumped for the second heat which would be the two best racers from each heat. But there was a catch... someone in the boat had to be blind-folded. A small detail I knew I could work around... I had no problem screaming out orders and rowing us if Bill could just work at being a "blind rudder." About 30 seconds into the final heat, and me screaming like a crazy woman, Bill and I some how managed to capsize and plunge deep into the frigid waters of the Contoocook River. Now, to some that may not sound so bad. But let me tell you, I was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, a white tee-shirt. Our overturned boat filled up with water, and I was stationed directly underneath it trying to fondle my way to the top without losing my Calvin Klein sunglasses and contact lenses. Once at the surface and gasping for air, the cold water chilled my body to the core and immediately I thought, "I wonder if we got back in and paddled like hell- if we would still have a chance?" But it was a metal canoe filled with water, and we were out too deep to have any leverage to try to make the situation right. So we were forced to do the "swim of shame" back to the dock dragging a capsized boat all the while me, hanging on to the oars, a life-jacket I haphazardly threw in the boat as an afterthought, and Bill's waterlogged cigar. (what? like I was going to leave it in the river to pollute the aquatic life.)
I lost the race and my dignity, but made a memory and I think earned a little of Bill's respect as he seemed amused and surprised by the comprehensive list of profanities that comprised my vocabulary the entire swim back to the dock.
1 comment:
I love it! I am sorry to say that I have been chuckling about it since you told me about it yesterday. And for those other readers out there, she is more than just competitve she is RUTHLESS (and has been since she was a small child) and I have the water on the knees to prove it!
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