April 27, 2014
Nudist Day at work. Voluntary, of course. I hold back — those extra pounds I’m ashamed of. If I were younger, more in shape – no problem joining in.
People I didn’t expect are in fact participating. I watch them strip, men and women alike. The women have come prepared with alternate outfits, as well. Jazzy and pretty and sexy and how did they have the time to prepare them at a moment’s notice? Takes me so long to shop for outfits for a new venture; they must have had them on hand. One is now in a pair of black lace pants, a style I’ve never seen before this; other fancy cover-ups on all the women: bright pinks, yellows. Oh, they do not walk around naked! That makes it work for me: cover-ups on the way to the nudist lounge. Standing on the sidelines I, too, take off my underwear. I don a plain-as-you-can-get long, gray t-shirt. Well, it’s what I have with me.
Nudist Day is part of an extended conference. We’ve taken over a hotel which has refurnished a wing for us; the organizers brought their own furnishings. I get to share with two others, and I’m relieved that our room is so large and comfortable. Looks like a basement family room with wood paneling, shaggy carpet and plaid upholstery. But, dirty dishes left in the sink – a serious omission by the last guests or by the hotel. No problem. I volunteer to clean them up; I want to be a great roommate. I do select the slightly better- positioned sofa to sleep on, but the others are perfectly adequate. I’m sure it’s only my idiosyncrasies that make this brown and tan plaid, slightly sagging one better for me, I think, as I lay my glasses on the armrest: a perfect fit.
Trouble finding lighting though. Ah, there is the switch to the kitchen lights, along a greasy wall. My fingers are sticky now. How disgusting! I must wash them. I have to navigate a narrow turn in the kitchen to the sink; I wonder if most people could even make it. Not much of a kitchen with a single sink. But, later I discover two mini-kitchen stainless steel sinks, hidden away in corners. How delightful! A truly fabulous kitchen after all. How did I miss seeing those little sinks for so long? Oh, it’s a cluttered kitchen. Easy to miss.
A note invites the guests to take certain items home – gifts. I gather up the cooking oil and other gift sundries, put them in a basket. A party has formed in the room. I announce to the group of 12 that guests may pick from these free items, but I can’t get heard. They are speaking loudly to each other; I raise my volume again and again but cannot get attention. My throat hurts from the effort. Fine. I put the basket down. Put it away. I go and clean the greasy wall.
One woman across the room calls out for my attention, though. “Do you think blue is a good color to paint my pet dog?”
I know it’s a silly question and perhaps she is testing me in some crazy way. I decide to play along and see.
“Depends on the color blue.”
“How many colors blue could there be?”
I take the nonsense question to heart. “Blue on the green side, blue on the yellow side. Light blue, dark blue.”
We decide on a sky blue.
“With silver electric stripes, one around each foot,” she adds.
I agree, but didn’t she also want a stripe on the head? To balance it out.
“Yes, five silver electric stripes then.”
A little bulldog: sky blue with five silver electric stripes.
I could see it running cheerfully towards me, already.
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