Pocahontas on the warpath

Terrifical it wasn't. But camp is over, hamdullah.

Horrible experience from beginning to end. Starting this last week, I was on a meal count. Pocahontas was just in a foul, foul mood from Monday on. She'd been off Sunday to celebrate her anniversary and just came back foul.

And today is the last day of camp, so maybe she's in a good mood, but I don't know. I'm not there. She scalped me.

The Monday she returned, she was bitter from the start. Hey, it was the last week of an 8-week camp; who wasn't at the end of their rope? Seriously?

But she was taking it out on people all around; i.e., not just me. And honestly, I'm used to being dumped on. I can handle it. It's annoying, unprofessional and essentially immature, but it doesn't have long-lasting effects.

But when she starts ordering the kids around, that's just wrong, and Monday that started big time. It kind of started because the maintenance man just doesn't do his job. He's supposed to take out the trash, but he doesn't, so she snaps at people to do it.

After Sunday night's dinner, no one dumped the trash and it was half-full. To his credit, MM doesn't work at night, so he wouldn't have done it. Technically, it's no one's job but sometimes someone steps up and does it, but Sunday, no one did.

So Monday, Pocahontas jumped on a guy we call Dragon to do it. She snaps, "Young man, come here. Take that trash out. The MM won't take it out after breakfast if it's not taken out at night, and they didn't take it out. Get this out of here now. It stinks." Or words to that effect.

When she returns to the kitchen, I asked if MM really did say he wouldn't take it out after breakfast if it wasn't taken out after dinner the night before, since it sounds weird. The guy is lazy and bitches about doing his job, but if you tell him to do it, he will do it.

Pocahontas can't actually say he told her that, because, of course, he didn't. She merely wanted the trash dumped and that was the most convenient exaggeration to make. But to me she says, "It's all right. I asked [Dragon] to dump it, and he did."

Which is also a lie. She didn't ask. Asking implies that the person can say no. She ordered and bullied him into it.

And really, she is a physically intimidating person. She's tall and heavyweight and also extremely loud. One morning I was sitting on the porch talking to Mermaid and I heard her shout "hello" to Pawnee, who was coming in the back door. The front porch is essentially three rooms away from the kitchen.

Anyway, I went out after the Dragon episode and asked Mermaid if SoCal, the camp administrator, had been around. I related the episode, mentioned how close to the edge Pocahontas was and how she's yelling and ordering around people who are not her underlings, and how the MM isn't taking out the trash.

So that was one episode. Others continued. We had the usual Friday camp number discussion, which went something like this:

Me: Should I make 96 pieces of toast for tomorrow morning, like I did this morning?

Pocahontas, rather smugly: No, remember, we don't have as many people for breakfast on Friday.

M: Yes, we do. It's lunch that's smaller.

P: No. It's breakfast.

M: No, we have day camp and staff for lunch on Friday.

P (growing in impatience and rudely): Yes, remember we went through this last week? We have less people for breakfast. (Yes, her grammar kills me.)

M: No, the residential kids go home after breakfast.

P: Oh, you're right this time.

God, she kills me. She just doesn't listen to me. We also had an incident with timesheets. She kept asking how long they went til, and I said the 25th. She completely ignored me. I had to run to the office and do something for her, and while there, she called them and asked the same question. I told the person who answered I'd already told her. She said yeah, I remember -- I was there.

She also does things that just belittle me. Besides referring to Pawnee and myself as "my girls," which irks me to no end, she just refuses to acknowledge any error. We've had a running argument over the amount of tea we should make. The kids don't like it (they inhale the punch) and I argue we don't need more than a gallon at night. Sometimes I argue we don't need it at all, like when we also have punch.

Wednesday, against my arguments (I always lose; she constantly reminds me it's her kitchen) we made a thing of tea, which is three gallons. Well, three meals later AND after Pawnee and I drank probably a gallon of it, I finally threw out the half-gallon that was left. Still, Pocahontas argues it's something I've done that makes them not want it: I forgot to put out ice, I made it too soon, I made it too late. Anything but acknowledging I might have a point when I say the kids prefer punch over tea.

She refuses to apologize to me, even for tiny things. We worked across from each other one day as I was placing frozen burgers into a pan. Suddenly something splashed over and I jumped. She asked what was wrong and I said, "Oh! You just splashed some pudding on the burgers."

And she said, "Oh." And walked away. No acknowledgement of the accident, no apology, even if it was meaningless. It's that kind of thing that makes me feel like used chewing gum on the bottom of a shoe.

And, like I've mentioned, other people have noticed this. And it's been so bad, I've been counting meals left until freedom. I'd run into, say, Stingray or Ogre and say, "Only six meals left!"

Thursday was so brutal that I vented to several people about her. I was almost to my boiling point I had to let it out. Six meals remaining. Five meals remaining. I can do it.

I even spoke to both her boss, HiHo, and the Y camp administrator, SoCal, and relayed how hard it was and especially right now.

So possibly Thursday night was no surprise. Or maybe the surprise was that it wasn't me that exploded.

In the dinner line Thursday, it was business as usual, which means she made snide comments to me here and there. I tend to just ignore them, and as a result I really don't remember the specific incident. But I do remember whatever she said, in front of children, was more harsh than usual, because after she said it, I glanced up at Tiger Lily, who is one of the people who's noticed I've gotten some nasty treatment. TL gave me a brief look that said, "I just can't believe she did that" and I resumed passing out food, also catching a glimpse of Baloo.

A bit later, I was out in the dining room, checking on milk and Baloo stopped me and said, "Something needs to be said. That's unacceptable, especially in front of the children. Do you want me to say something?" (I learned later that his kids, who heard her comment to me, had asked him why she was so mean to me.)

I thought he meant talking to the bosses about it, and I said yes. And, unbeknownst to me, he meant to her, and right then, as he thought all the people had gone through the line. (As did I; I don't leave the line while we're serving.)

So when I came back in, I suddenly heard Pocahontas screaming at him. She was just yelling things like, "Don't you come back here and get in my face!" and "You think I don't know what you're saying about me?"

And it just went on and on. Baloo, to his credit, didn't raise his voice. She, on the other hand, was absolutely ballastic. And, as it turned out, not everyone had been fed yet. A group of leaders (fortunately) had just arrived to eat, and they were making their way through the line as this unfolded.

As soon as Pocahontas screamed "GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!" Birdie ran and closed one door and Baguira slammed the other. The one-sided screaming went on and on. "I'M FIFTY YEARS OLD. YOU CAN'T TALK TO ME LIKE THIS." My name was thrown around left and right.

Close to tears, I went out the back door, completely unable to cope. All I could think was, "My God, I still have to work two more meals with this woman."

When I escaped, Kanga, the camp director (SoCal wasn't on site) was trying to officiate, saying, "No one is leaving this kitchen angry" and other stuff that wasn't falling on welcome ears. (I've no idea what Pawnee was doing.)

I walked around the building to the front, where I tried to smile and figure out if anything had been overheard. Apparently not because the dinner din is really loud, which was good. The campers had no idea what happened, but the leaders did.

Poor Fox came up to me and asked if there was any food because he hadn't gotten a plate. Completely uncomfortable, I went into the kitchen to get him some. (At this point, Baloo was outside the kitchen, and the yelling had stopped.)

Once in there, I found Pocahontas on the phone. She was yelling into it, obviously to HiHo "...AND WARDA KNOWS ANYTHING SHE WANTS TO SAY SHE CAN SAY TO MY FACE--" (yeah, like I have a prayer at being listened to. Open to criticism she is not.)

At this point, she saw me and screamed "GET OUT. JUST GET OUT." And I said, "Fox hasn't eaten yet." And she repeated, "GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN."And I grabbed my bowl of spaghetti and my tea and left.

I sat down with some kids and chatted with them about their camp experience and finally caught Kanga's eye. I said I'd been thrown out; what was I supposed to do? (Technically, Pocahontas isn't my boss, Kanga is.) Kanga really isn't qualified to do anything and just said, "Do whatever you need to do."

So I said I was going to campfire and saying goodbye and then going home. No way was I going to go back into that situation. I would have left then and there, but my keys, watch and glasses -- not to mention the extra tea -- were all in the kitchen, where she had to work late because I wasn't there. (When I went in later, I saw it was in a pretty bad state of disarray. Pity.)

I've no idea how it turned out. People asked me to stay just for the heck of it but I had no desire to go through the breakfast line on either side, you know?

Had it been more than one day left, I could have dealt with it. But at this point, what was the point? She's out of control and even with a day off she was just not easy to deal with.

It's a shame because she really is a nice woman who just didn't realize the difference between school and camp and had signed on to be a manager, not a worker.

So I'm done. My scalp is cooked and I am home.

Overall, the experience is one I will forget ASAP. In trying to find positives, I did meet some nice people. That's about it. My one regret, besides taking the job in the first place, is not being able to say goodbye to the day camp kids. They were probably completely baffled I wasn't there this morning.

And the thought of Pocahontas having to answer to about 20 "Where's Warda?" inquries she's getting today just tickles me.

So the end of camp does bring a smile to my face. Who'd have thought it?