From the age of 9 to the age of 19, I spent my summers at Girl Scout camp. All of the counselors at this camp have “camp names” which they choose or are given to them, and a lot of time and effort goes into convincing campers that these names are in fact the counselors’ real names.
The first day of my counselor-in-training program was spent like most first days are, having forced “get to know you” time. We were discussing movies, and several people expressed their preference for horror movies. I hopped into the conversation, saying “I’m such a weenie, because I will watch a scary movie and laugh about it, but that night I'll be in my bed with the covers over my head saying 'They're going to eat me! They're going to eat me!'" At this, my counselor (whose camp name was Animal, a la the Muppet Show drummer) burst out laughing. "Weenie, that's hilarious, that should be your camp name!" In one swift move, my future was decided. From that moment on, I was Weenie.
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