|Day 7: OMG so fun.|
Welp, Paddle Georgia is over, and I think I'm all recovered-up. But even though I feel like I've been hit with the sunburn/ dehydration/ overstimulation truck, I'm actually sort of sad when it's over. Because Paddle Georgia allows me to spy on people. Like, all day long for a week. It's better than the bus station.
Paddle Georgia's basically summer camp for old people. And summer camp works really well for kids because they're used to not getting what they want all the time, but most adults have carefully coordinated their lives so they can be as free of inconvenience as possible.
|My family, over it.|
So, over the past week, I've catalogued a few coping mechanisms that people use when confronted with a refugee camp situation, and I wrote them down in an email to a friend who idly asked whether Paddle Georgia had given me any insights into the secrets of the human heart, etc.
1. Find the Loopholes: Is there a weight room at this high school you can sneak into and sleep in? If you volunteer for the second shift of breakfast, can you break in line and eat before everybody else? If you ask an authority figure the same question a number of different ways, will she get confused and let you do whatever you want? The answer to all these questions is almost certainly "yes."
|Yeah, I dunno...|
|This child was particularly intimidating|
4. Ask to Talk to the Manager: if someone tells you not to camp there because the sprinkler system is going to turn on at 2 AM, ask to talk to her manager. By the end of the trip I actually started telling people I didn't have a manager. "NOBODY'S above you?" Nope. Nobody.
|Some coworkers, hanging out super hard.|
6. Be Late for Everything: You don't have to wait in line when you're late for everything.
So, yeah. If you ever find yourself either back at summer camp, or in a post-apocalyptic hell-scape, keep these strategies in mind. They're all pretty effective.