Club Getaway: Camp for Grownups

Last weekend I went to Club Getaway, which is basically a summer camp for adults.  Picture this.  If you’re driving from Boston, as I was, you come up a stretch of southwestern Connecticut with miles and miles of New England farms and streams until you enter the town of Kent, CT.  A few miles in, you come across the sign for Club Getaway (aka Camp).  Take a swift left into the campgrounds or you might miss it.  As you drive over the dirt road, you have a mixture of excitement and uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

kc-single-marshmallow-roastingWhat should I expect over the next few days?

In general, you should expect hundreds of singles, couples, adults of all ages who are looking for exactly the same thing as you – a weekend of good times, a little craziness, and sunshine.  And Camp delivered just that, last weekend, minus the sunshine!  Usually, there are tons of outside activities, but because of the rain, we spent a lot of time indoors.

You know what that means?

Yes, general debauchery.  And I needed that.  It had been a tough few weeks and I needed a good stress release, so I was ready for a good time.  And it worked.  I met a ton of people and acquaintances became friends.  I was even able to bury the hatchet with someone.

I try to keep this blog relatively clean and not divulge too many of the “dirty details” of my love life.  Let’s just say that I shared a cabin one evening with a roomful of dudes and I barely slept, because, come on – who can sleep in a room full of dudes?  And you know what I can’t forget about from that night?  One of the guys kept snoring and farting so loudly in his sleep!  I can’t get those sounds out of my head.  Oh, I so obviously live alone.

And I spent some time with a gentleman who begged me throughout the intoxicated evening to tell him that I loved him.

“But,  I don’t love you.  I just met you.”

“Just pretend.”

I can’t interpret that came from true affection, sorrow, or just a fellow who wants to be loved.

Needless to say, I came home, exhausted, but content from my weekend.  Listen, I’m 38 years old and single, so I’m caught smack in between the “married couples with two kids” and the “newly divorced.”  I’ve got to find the middle ground where I belong.  Still figuring it out once Camp experience at a time!

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