Light flashed behind me. I spun around quickly to see who snapped the photo but there was no one. I looked up at the windows of the surrounding buildings. Nobody. The only sound was the mumbling of boardwalkers down the block. I was scared. Then the sky crackled with thunder.
Really? Draught was the hot topic all summer and tonight it decides to rain. It was exactly the kind of fortune that could make me reevaluate my beliefs on destiny. There was a god and he’s a perv. Of course it would rain the one night I was trapped outside with nothing but a thin layer of paint between pedestrian eyes and my most private flesh.
A decision needed to be made. I remembered seeing another phone booth a block over. But it was on the boardwalk. My thoughts were racing. I wasn’t sure what was real and what was fantasy. I imagined walking home in the rain slowly, the paint washing away and leaving a trail for all to follow and find my nude self.
Another flash of light. This time I was looking down the street past the boardwalk to the ocean and saw the lightning bolt itself. The light made a fool of my disastrous paint job.
By the time the thunder struck, I was running back to the boardwalk. I needed to get to the phone before the rain. I tried to stay close to the walls of the closed down shops, most of which had sold t-shirts during the day. If only just one had stayed open late, how easily I could’ve snatched an oversized shirt and made my way home confident in my coverage.
My breasts were flopping in a way they can only do when you’re topless. Still, most people were in groups or couples and paid no attention to me. But some heads were definitely turning. Goosebumps spread over the skin of my body. What a unique fabric texture.
I made it to the phone booth, cursing myself for not checking the forecast this morning. In my defense, I really wasn’t planning on being out this late...naked. The phone booth was somewhat tucked away in a recess of the building so that I could at least be semi concealed by shadow. I still felt exposed as people walked by and now and then did a double take when they saw me.
My first quarter didn’t take. Don’t do this to me. I tried it again and the booth swallowed it this time. The phone was ringing. I practiced in my head. Hi Mom, I know it’s late, but could you come pick me up? I left my phone at home by accident so I’ll just be waiting on the corner of Canal Street and Ocean Drive. Also, I don’t have any clothes on. I banged my head against the phone booth. My bathing suit was stolen by a turbulent wave and my bag and towel must have been stolen by a beach goer. Why don’t I have someone with me? Oh, my friends left early and I thought I’d get a little more sun before I went home. I lost my suit after they left. Yeah I know, I’ll never go in the water and leave my stuff alone again.
“Hello.”
“Hi Dad.”
“So you finally called. We were starting to get a little worried.”
“Well don’t forget I’m a grown woman. But yeah I figured you’d be worried, that’s why I’m calling. I’m just out with some friends. I think I’ll stay with them tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you, bye.”
Clink. The conversation was over. My decision had been made. I didn’t have money for another call. What had I done?
I felt the first drop of rain just as a lightning bolt branched into the ocean. In the brilliant flashing light I saw the face of La Reina de la Playa museum with the empty bus stop in front. For a second I thought about sleeping under the bus stop canopy like a homeless person, maybe I could scrounge some newspaper together from the trash to cover myself, but then a much better idea popped into my mind, just in time for the downpour.
I threw discrepancy to the wayside and ran straight down the center of the boardwalk towards the museum in the pouring rain. My breasts were flopping and the paint was washing away, streaks running down my shins. Fortunately, the other boardwalkers were also scrambling, looking for some cover. Most of them missed me entirely. I noticed a few had found cover under closed shop overhangs and they watched me blur past them. How obvious was I at this point? No time to figure that out. My paint was wearing down. I was starting to see my nipples clearly on my breasts. The museum was near.
Instead of heading for the front, I ran towards the alley around the back. There wasn’t anybody hanging around the museum, which was good, because I was pretty much clean of any paint now. I realized someone who might’ve seen me might also follow me. And here I was, alone in a dark alley. I prayed the rain was dense enough to have significantly impaired the vision of those I passed.
A nearby dumpster thumped and I sprang back like a cat. A skunk crawled out from under and I relaxed. Skunk, better than a man. I was cold and anxious to follow through with my plan, and not wanting to be skunk sprayed, I was now doubly motivated to get going with it. The fire escape ladder hung a few feet above my head. The bars would be wet. I ran, jumped and grabbed onto the bottom bar, gripping it as tight as I could and pulled the ladder down with my weight.
I hit the ground hard. A little wind knocked out of me but I got up and kept moving. I climbed the ladder and made my way to the second floor of the museum. From there, I approached a window and jimmied it open. No alarms yet. Lucky me. I couldn’t see the room I was getting into, but I didn’t care. I put my right leg in first and reached around to get a firm footing. Once I did I brought my other foot in, then my body.
Apparently, my footing was not firm enough. As soon as I moved my weight off the window sill, I slipped and fell inside the dark room. I didn’t hit my head hard, but I hit it hard enough to expedite sleep mode. I passed out and dreamt I was at a high school talent show. I was doing my dance routine fine except that every time I did a pirouette, an article of clothes fell off. This was unfortunate because the routine was to end with a slew of pirouettes. I paused, afraid to perform the finale. My teacher stood on the side of the stage, shouting for me to do it. I felt the eyes of every classmate on me. I felt a mix of emotions and red hot warmth in my body. I felt awake.
4 The Museum
Sunlight shot through the open window I had fallen through the night before. I had slept through the night and awoke like a jack in the box. I was naked in an art museum and I was covered in white powder. A torn open bag of flour rested on the edge of a countertop. It must’ve broken my fall. I was in a kitchen. La Reina de la Playa had a small art deco styled cafe on the second floor. The doors to the cafe were a few feet from me. That would not be a good way to exit, too many people. I climbed up onto the counter and looked out the window I came in from. I was sad to see the face painter setting up his cart in front of the museum, reminding me of the crime I committed. And for what? A worthless call home. Passing the face painter was Dreads on his roller blades, bopping his head and pointing up ahead. He was pointing at someone else I knew, the thin leathery American flag speedo man, getting off his motorcycle. He was wearing the same speedo again, somehow he actually rode his bike that way. He highfived Dreads as he passed. All the times I had been here growing up, I had never really thought about this place as a community, only as an object for my leisure, the beach. But of course it was, an amazingly unique, fantastic community. Then I saw the metal ladder. It had been put back up. My heart nearly stopped, there was a lock on the ladder now. I crouched down on the kitchen counter and hugged my knees to my chest.
I could just wait there to be found, try to get some kitchen staffer to take pity on me. With my luck it’d be some horny kid, first week on the job. He wouldn’t be able to pull his eyes away. Oh jeez, what was I doing, fantasizing again? This was serious. But I couldn’t help it.
How much time did I have before I’d be found? Wait! I could go through the cafe. The kitchen was empty, so it must be closed. Otherwise I would’ve been caught already. I almost wished I had been. Finding me unconscious nude would have probably drawn the most sympathy and gotten me home safe and in the clear. I ran to the door to the cafe and peeked in. Nobody there. The lights were off. The room was empty of any tables or anything. It looked like they were getting ready to renovate it. Darn, I would�
�ve easily turned a tablecloth into a makeshift dress, but no such luck.
I tiptoed across the room to the far glass doors, leading into the museum. Maybe it was early enough that the museum was still closed. There was usually a fashion exhibit, maybe I could grab an outfit from there and casually walk out of the museum after it opened. Museum light poured through the glass doors. I was pretty close to them when an elderly couple walked right by. I dove behind the wall next to the doors.
My knee scraped a little on the cafe rug but I was otherwise okay. I peeked around the edge and got a better look out the glass doors. The museum was open, just not the cafe.
The large room outside the cafe was full of paintings. If I remembered correctly, this whole floor was paintings. In other words, I’d be out of luck finding clothes.
Straight across the open space was the elevator and staircase. I was pretty sure the fashion exhibit was downstairs. The museum wasn’t super busy, but the first floor would have more people, since it was closest to the entrance. Going down there completely nude was a huge risk.
I was pretty sure the third floor was ancient art. If the cave painting exhibit was still going on, I could snatch some loincloth from a cavewoman mannequin. The third floor was split into a bunch of compartmentalized sections, so it’d be easier to sneak around and hide. Once again, I’d have to act like some sort of naked spy, ducking and dodging out of the sight of ordinary people.
Wait, I had an idea. I ran back to the kitchen. The flour. I picked up the entire bag and poured it over my head, covering myself head to toe. I started to walk back into the cafe when I realized I was leaving white powder footprints. That was no good. I wiped my feet along the carpet until they were clean.
I snuck up beside the glass doors leading to the museum and watched as a family with young children passed. Oh boy, of course there were children, this was a museum. My stomach sank at the possibility of becoming an accidental sex offender. But was it accidental? Couldn’t I wait in the kitchen and try to explain to the staff? Couldn’t I flag someone down and ask for help? No. No, I pushed those thoughts away.
I saw my opportunity, a gap in museum patrons, and bolted from the doors and beelined for the door to the staircase across the room. I timed it perfectly. The big empty space was just that, empty. But just as I approached the staircase doors, they started to open from somebody on the other side.
With nowhere to go, I jumped into the nook created by the elevator doors. I stuck my hand around the wall and pushed the elevator call button. Flour fell off my trembling arms as I waited for the elevator. A small group of middle aged folks all wearing sweaters came out of the staircase and just stopped in the middle of the room, looking at a map, deciding what to do. If they looked my way, they’d see a powder white naked woman, terrified, against the grey metal elevator doors.
BEEP went the elevator, in my head louder than any elevator beep ever. My heart almost exploded realizing there could be people in this elevator. The doors dragged open. Nobody. I lunged behind the control panel and smashed the close doors button.
I didn’t dare look back to see if the indecisive group had seen me. I didn’t have much time to ponder it anyways. The elevator was rising and I’d have to figure out how to hide on the next floor in a matter of seconds. The doors could open to a huge crowd for all I knew.
Ding! The doors separated and I clung to the wall just in case. Phew, nobody at the doors. But I did see a young hipster couple discussing an Ottoman rug hanging on the far wall. I slunk out of the elevator and tiptoed my way towards the caveman exhibit. It was on the opposite side of the room, a long journey, through a zigzagging ancient Greece section. I was half way through it when I heard talking coming around the corner. I was prepared.
I hopped over the felt rope barricade and found a place between two armless statues. Hopefully, armlessness wasn’t a requirement. I struck a pose, my hands at my hips, my back arched slightly, my chest out. I was close to the wall, as far as I could be from the path.
The talking was coming from the hipster couple I saw earlier. They came around the corner arguing about who sold the best pizza in town. They stopped and glanced at the statues and surrounding artifacts, but it was clear they were more into their conversation than the art. It sounded like one of their first dates. They made sure to look around as they talked, but only for appearances, to create the illusion that they were interested in the surrounding art. By the time they left, the bearded male had accepted that he’d have to give his asymmetrical date’s choice pizza parlor another chance. Date number three perchance?
I was about to move on when I heard more voices, lots of them. “Next up students, we’ll see some artifacts from ancient Greece,” I heard a familiar voice say. I started to tremble at the herd of footsteps coming around the corner. It was a school class, with their teacher and a museum tour guide, who was none other than my neighbor, Mr. DeSoto.
My trembling intensified. This would give me away for sure, so I closed my eyes and concentrated. How stupid of me. Mr. DeSoto had worked here for as long as I remembered. How didn’t I think of it? Well, nothing I could do about it now. Relax. He’s giving the tour, probably not looking my way. I kept my eyes shut but cracked them just enough for me to see. Mr. DeSoto was looking my way. He had his hand out, gesturing in my direction, then he turned to some pottery and talked about that.
There see, he wasn’t really looking at me. There was nothing to fear. It was just nudity no different than the statues standing next to me, except breathing. I slowed my breathing, tried to inhale shallow, minimizing my chest movements. Mr. DeSoto had moved on with his presentation, but not all the students had. Many of the boys looked over with an interest that was missing with the other exhibits. Don’t tremble, concentrate on nothingness. The eternal black void. There are children staring at your butt naked body. Darkness, emptiness, nothingness.
Mr. DeSoto and the teacher were moving on to the next section, but some of the boys hesitated, soaking in the view as much as possible before they had to leave. The rest of the group was almost around the corner when they finally ran to catch up, save one small boy who stayed behind. He wore a backwards cap and glasses and carried a cup of water in his hand that he kept taking sips from. He was staring straight at me, mesmerized. Had he figured it out? One of these things was not like the other.
He lifted the felt rope and ducked under it. Every muscle in my body froze and the panic musician came back in an attempt to shatter my insides. The boy crept forward. How old was he? Please be at least thirteen. Be a short post pubescent teenager, pretty please. An adult would know right away, but a kid? Maybe I was just the most realistic statue he’d ever seen. He’d go home today with a newfound appreciation for Greek art, thinking they displayed a level of artisanship in sculpting he had never thought possible. Or he knew I was real, or at least suspected it. If he got close enough, he’d see the many ways I differed from the other statues. The faint hairs on my arms, the dimple on my thigh, the scar on my shoulder, the mole next to my belly button. I debated whether or not to run if he got any closer.
“Jason!” came the call of the teacher, poking her head around the corner. “Get out of there!” And whatever Jason thought I was, it was discarded as he raced back to his teacher. She said, “If they catch you doing something like that we might not get invited back, do you understand?” Jason nodded and went around the corner to join his class. The teacher held back a second, looking at me, hopefully just checking that Jason hadn’t messed anything up. Thank you teacher lady. You’re appreciated in more ways than you know. I repressed the urge to give her a thumbs up until she went back around the wall to rejoin the class.
Next to the ancient Greece exhibit was the cave paintings exhibit, with a fake plastic cave and amateur imitations of cave paintings. I quickly found the female mannequin with her faux leopard print top and bottom. They were hard to remove, I almost tore them before realizing that would make them difficult to wear myself. As I tugged and pul
led the top off of this giant jawed doll, I noticed a security camera in the corner. Oh dear. Was it all for nothing? I imagined a security guard in a closed room watching all my antics with his pants down. Others were probably on their way to arrest me right now. They’d have no problem handcuffing me, moving me, frisking me. Ahh, no time for fantasies.
I couldn’t do anything about the cameras. A neighbor of mine who owned a small convenience store had told me once that he doesn’t check the security cameras unless something happens, like a robbery. So there was that. And who knows, if someone was surveilling at the moment, maybe he’s not paying much attention. I needed something to hope for, no matter how improbable. My heartbeat returned to normal. Well, not normal, but it’s normal level of nude anxiousness.
The faux leopard skin top was off the mannequin and quickly over my head. The cavewoman bottoms were easier to get off. What unrealistically thin hips these cavewomen mannequins had. And this was the era when child birth was at its most primal and child bearing hips were probably at their largest. Oh those poor children and the misconceptions about cavewomen they’ll have. Maybe I shouldn’t blame La Reina de la Playa. It could be really hard to get mannequins without supermodel figures. Wait no, that didn’t make sense. This mannequin had a Neanderthal style head. No excuses.
A group of college age students were coming around the corner and I froze just as I got the loose fitting bottoms up. I looked at my foot posture, trying to imitate the other cavemen. My feet were still covered in white flour. Oh my god. All my skin was still covered in flour.
I dove into some fake fauna just as the college students looked over. They were laughing. Had they seen me? A cloud of flour dissipated in the air where I just was. I peeked over my shoulder back at them. They were pointing at the naked cavewoman mannequin I undressed. If that alone was drawing attention, maybe it was a good thing I hit the dirt. I mean, even without the flour, I’m not a Neanderthal. I’d be spotted in a second. A horrible thought shot through my mind. What if they couldn’t tell the difference? I’m hideous! I giggled audibly at myself for a nanosecond before coming back to the seriousness of my situation. I listened for their voices, trying to gauge if they had heard me.
ENF: Embarrassed Nude Female Page 4