Sure didn't mean to upset so many ;-) with yesterday's tease. I thought it was funny to lead you on like that...but many do not appreciate my sense of humor. Sigh. Today's story does involve actual nudity. And actual police. And is totally true. (My parents sometimes read my blog, but mostly not. I'm hoping this is one of the “not” times since it might shatter their image of me as “the compliant child.” Don't laugh! My mother actually STILL calls me that.)
In other tales of my high school life, I've talked about how I didn't fit in at all at my new, small, conservative, Dutch-Reformed Church based, Christian high school. We moved to CO just in time for my senior year. (I have forgiven my Dad. But it took several years. And weekly ski-trips (must admit, a pretty good bribe)). I had the choice of Fancy Neighborhood Large High School (population, oh thousands) or the school my Swissie was going to be attending, and could use a ride to. I complied.
I didn't fit in, and have many of those stories to tell, as I wasn't able to infiltrate the ONE clique of girls. Finally, about two months into school, I made friends with another outcast, a junior, who though she'd attended this school since kindergarden (well, there was an elementary, and then our school building which housed the middle school and the high school) but you know what I mean, around these people her whole life, still didn't have friends. That was mainly because she also didn't fit the required mold – skirts and dresses, hose and heels. Every day. In high school. As in your Sunday best. I've always been a beacon of fashion: jeans and a t-shirt. Mostly black t-shirts. (So that beacon is a warning beacon, as in “don't do this” if you want friends.) “Heather” wore jeans and shirts. And lots of make-up. Wouldn't surprise me if she were a make-up artist to the stars now, she was really quite good. We became friends.
I had somehow gotten the reputation of a party girl (probably because I'd never attended a Christian school, ergo I must be a major sinner). I decided that if I was going to have that rep, and the scarlet letter and shunning that came with it,then dammit, why not BE the party girl? Heather's older brother (by seven years) still lived at home, and gladly supplied us with alcohol. He also had a lot of friends who liked to, shall we say, take risks. You can probably see how the set-up for this story differs in many ways from yesterday's. I know you're feeling like, “Yes, I can see naked fitting in here.”
One night while drinking cheap, bad, sickly sweet wine, “Todd” and his friends invited us to go sneak into the city's popular recreation spot, a reservoir where people swam, jet skied, boated, etc. It was closed for the season, with chains across the entrances. Instead of cutting the chains and driving to the beach, he just left his car sorta near the entrance, but parked for a quick get-away, already turned around to just punch it and drive away. I have no idea why Todd and his friends decided to be gentlemen, but they waited in the car for a few minutes while Heather and I got naked, hid our clothes where no one would ever find them should that prank be on the agenda, and waded into the water. The temperature didn't bother me at all. I grew up in Sweden swimming in frigid lakes and a temperature like that was totally normal to me. (It's October in this story...) Heather, however, was a popsicle right away and as the boys came running, screaming, chasing each other and generally begging for a security guard to come find us, she was running naked towards them and her clothes. She asked them to close their eyes. They laughed as they headed into the water. More screaming, choice words about how cold the water was, and immediately they were hightailing it back to their own clothes.
Meanwhile,Todd and I were in the water, about 20 feet apart, talking like normal people. Well, if swimming in October, naked, with your best friend's brother, while trespassing is normal. Then we see lights coming towards us. At first we think car, but as we huddle there in horror, we realize it's a flashlight. Belonging not to a security guard, but a police officer. I'm trying not to imagine what my parents would say if they were to have to bail me out of jail, as Todd tells me “the plan”. He's going to walk up to the cop and pretend he didn't know he was trespassing, thereby giving me the chance to move further down the beach, exit silently, and get my clothes.
All is working just fine, I'm almost to my clothes, when I hear Heather, and Todd's friends calling me in very loud whispers. They're leaving and if I want to come, I've got to hightail it to the car. I look down the beach where Todd is talking to the officer, and make the wimpy decision to leave him and try to make it to the car. So now I'm running, while crouching, dodging trees, stepping on who knows what, carrying my clothes. I'm really not able to not freak out anymore, and I just jump into the car. Naked. The guys push the car as far as they have energy for, then jump in and start the engine. We speed out of there, and off the property, and hide the car again.
Of course we're worried about Todd. Heather cooks up a plan. She and one of the friends are going to pretend that Todd is mentally challenged and that they've been looking all over for him. Is there any chance officer that you've seen him? He likes swimming. Their acting skills are never called upon, though, because as they're heading back, they meet him about half-way.
Now that the danger was over, we all start talking at once. Our stories are tumbling all over each other's, and pretty soon we're laughing hysterically. Turns out the officer was a fairly new cop, and Todd had him wishing he hadn't missed the naked girls, and they did the man-talk thing about boobs or whatever and the cop wished him luck getting some tonight and let him go.
Dumb luck. I'm glad we didn't get caught, but I probably would have been better off considering the other adventures Heather and I participated in with these guys. That night I experienced something I'd never experienced before. The adrenaline rush of being naughty. Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes had turned a corner, and it would take several more trespassing adventures until I learned my lesson and started flying right again. Years and years later.