#47 Lobster Picnic

Camp Counselors in Maine - 1976

A storm delayed our lakeside  picnic, but we got the water boiling again for 90-dollars worth of lobster.  That was a lot of money in '76, but there were about 20 of us.  We hardly knew each other.  We had just completed a few days of orientation, at Camp Waziyatah and we were celebrating before the campers were to arrive the next day. I wasn't sure yet whether I liked these fellow college students from all over the country. I knew I should try not to be so critical. After all, I would be spending my summer with them.

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I wasn't sure I was going to like lobster, either. I'd never eaten any and suddenly someone who thought I needed a proper initiation slapped a steaming, butter drenched hunk into my mouth. Soon after the somewhat barbaric feast, I remember the sun starting to set over the misty lake and the giddy, happily bonded group headed off to skinny dip. I seemed to be the only introvert who stayed back and sat on a rock, where I remember being approached by two curious children who came from nowhere. They questioned me, with their sweet Maine accents. "What kinda  pah-ti is goin' on here?"
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