Personal Narrative

Per. 3 & 4 World Studies

Monday, March 12, 2001

One day, when I was 13 years old, my father told me that I was going to go to ski racing camp at Mt. Hood, Oregon. He said that I was going to have to raise $800 in two months, and he had a store where he is a sales representative that was going to give me a temporary job. My father said that if I didn’t know much about the camp, it would make the experience much more enjoyable. So that was it, all I knew was that the camp was in Oregon, and I was going to be there for eight days.

I had been to the store where I was going to be working, so the day after I learned that I was going to camp, my father took me to Bee Bee Shoes, in Manchester, New Hampshire. My boss was a real nice guy, and worked me hard. I was upstairs from the retail store, in the shipping and receiving section. This was basically a huge, dusty warehouse, with mountains upon mountains of boxes filled with shoes stacked up to the ceiling. My job was to open up every box in a designated section, find the serial code on the shoe, get the price label, scan the price label, put the label on the shoe, and tape the box back up. After the first day of my tedious job I was exhausted. I found out that I had to work everyday after school until school finished, and then every other day during the summer up until the trip. The next day I worked, I went to my section and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was the same amount of boxes as the last time, but these were all new! This was a very boring, frustrating, and tiring process that I became quite good at by the time I had worked up enough money to go to the camp.

At 10:00 on a steamy July morning, I was soaring above the clouds on a small, crowded Metro Jet 737. We were packed like sardines and I was sitting next to an older man with a quiet, top secret, FBI type personality. I think we said no more than ten words to each other the entire flight. I was flying first to O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, Illinois. I got to the huge, crowded airport around 12:30, and a larger woman picked me up and took me to the children’s area until it was time for my next flight to Portland, Oregon. In the children’s area, there were about 35 kids and 10 workers in a room not much larger than this computer lab that I am in right now. There was Happy Gilmore playing on the TV, which I couldn’t hear, because the noise level was off the charts. After 45 minutes of sitting there by myself in silence, getting toys and kids thrown at me, my name was called and I was off to catch my flight. We had a long walk to the terminal and the mix of people we passed fascinated me. There were many different races, colors, and types of people. One group of people were playing religious songs and handing out pamphlets to people, including myself. We had to go underneath the runway to get to my terminal. When we walked down stairs, the first thing I saw was millions of colored lights and tubes filled with glowing goo. This was very cool, and my guide told me that this was a very famous tunnel. It felt like I was in the middle of a neon festival. When we got to the terminal, I was allowed on the plane first because I was a child flying by myself. This time the plane was much larger, but still very crowded. I got free headphones for the movie on the plane because I was flying by myself. I felt like I was just given a million dollars getting my free headphones! I was sitting with a younger couple who kept playing with the stupid air-phone thing on the plane. They were trying to call their friends, but couldn’t