You rarely hear about people who had a positive experience in the Boy Scouts so here is the story of the time I hired a stripper at summer camp
The counselors represented the entire spectrum of virginity - from math savants to model airplane pilots, stopping at every ham radio station in between. One year a guy got fired for jerking off in public to pictures of trains.
Against this backdrop a single ounce of charisma or rebellion made you a hero and at camp, I was their king. Imagine Ferris Bueller in knee-high socks.
For years I’d been slowly turning up the temperature on pranks - from eating all of the marshmallows out of the industrial dispenser of Lucky Charms, to the time I pretended to be Amish for two weeks. When I knew it would be my last summer there I was determined to pull some hijinx that would go down in camp history. I was 21 and staring down a future full of boring jobs, in offices, where no one ever sang songs or faked a religion. This had to be the best summer of my life.
That summer there was a counselor turning 18. He was homeschooled and undisputedly the most sheltered kid at camp so when I joked that we should take him to the strip club for his birthday, everyone laughed - except for him. His eyes went wide with the bewildered expression of learning that something is possible. Like the way a dog looks at you when you bark at them. Good bye trains, birdwatching and Star Trek, suddenly titties were his hyperfixation.
In Wisconsin, strip clubs are named by smashing together a woodland creature & a vaguely horny adjective. I spent an afternoon calling places like:
Bear Naked
The Thirsty Beaver
Pink Foxtails
And simply - Chubbies
Working my way down the food chain, hope was wearing thin - each was 21+. My final call connects me to Chubby himself who explains that although we couldn't get into the club, what he could do was send us a house call. It felt like being denied a gun permit and getting handed a bomb instead.
A private show is way more expensive so if this was going to happen, I needed to raise some money fast. Fortunately, Scouts are used to fundraising for big trips and this was the same sales pitch - *help provide a life changing experience! These boys will learn about nature! some might practice shooting!!* Standing on the table of the local laundromat I’m watching my scout-issued hat fill with crumpled bills and fists of change from a crowd of counselors and supportive locals.
As news of the plan spread the guest list quickly included every counselor over 18. Our fundraising goal was reached by people handing over their entire weekly pay to ensure our friend would have the best birthday party ever. It also didn't hurt that we had all been in the woods for 5 weeks, deprived from so much as seeing the shadow of a woman, during the horniest years of our lives. By halfway through the summer a particularly round cloud in the sky could trigger a DEFCON 2 level of lust.
The day of the party had all the excitement and nerves of a NASA launch. Our camp director was a notorious hard ass. The type of guy who hates kids and fun then takes a job at a youth summer camp. When word of our plan finally reached him he called me into his office, I assumed to fire me & scrub our life-changing mission. He did not mince words - you can not do this here. Then he slid me $50 & recommended the Shady Acers Motel. It felt like being denied a bomb but being handed the nuclear missile codes.
The only rule was we weren't supposed to reveal where we worked. As their king, I explained this to the ham radio operators, model train conductors and dungeon masters while we climbed out of a van with Boy Scouts of America plastered on the side. We greeted the dancer with the excitement of men who’d been lost at sea. If our enthusiasm hadn’t blown our cover, we immediately told her that we worked at the summer camp - because a Scout is trustworthy.
She puts on a show worthy of its own merit badge. There were pyrotechnics! Musical numbers! Audience participation! At the start of the show the dancer had lit a dozen candles to set the mood and for her grand finally she empties the wax from all of them directly onto her vagina. Our jaws were on the floor. She'd violated every rule of fire safety. Just in case the image wasn’t seared into his head she handed the birthday boy a perfectly shaped wax mold to take home.
When our camp closed down a couple years ago I took a day off from my boring job in an office and went back there for the first time in a decade to dig up a time capsule that was buried that summer. Alongside patches and song books there it was - the persistently preserved wax mold.
To this day I am grateful to The Scouts for providing me leadership skills, adventure, and the best summer of my life.
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