Friday, August 17, 2012

Adventures at The Nekkid Beach - Part 2

Scroll down a hair for Part 1.

Do you feel badly about your body? Do you have body image issues? 

I have the cure. Go to a nude beach.

Up until I was about twenty-two or so, I had a body that most people would sell their soul to the devil for. And I took it for granted because I was young and stupid and didn't have the sense enough to dress like a whore when I should have. If I could go back in time to my younger, pre-thyroid disease, pre-baby, pre-the-hardships-of-adult-life, destroyed self, I would say: "Take off those baggy jeans and those awful t-shirts, throw away your pilgrim shoes and your drop-waisted, Peter Pan collared, Little House dresses and wear a mother fucking thong and some stilettos!! Tube tops! Halters! Mini-skirts! Show off that flat stomach while you have it, younger self!"

It's so unfair that we can't have our sixteen year old bodies and our thirty-eight year old brains at the same time.

Anyway, I had this rocking body, but then a lot of really hard crap happened to me and when I'm sad or stressed I tend to eat more. My thyroid went wacky and I got lazy. Ok, I've always been lazy, it's just that my laziness finally caught up to me. There was a point in my life when I could eat nachos, Twix bars and a slice of pan pizza and wash it all down with a half cherry, half coke Slurpee, call it a balanced dinner and stay at a hundred and ten pounds. Yeah, that's not going to happen again unless my ideas of paradise in the after-life are accurate.

Eleven years ago, when I went to the Nekkid Beach in Jamaica, I didn't look as good as I did when I was twenty (I was twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight) but I sure as hell didn't look as bad as I do now. I comfort myself by saying that right now I look better than I will at seventy-three. Back then, I had a decent amount of self-esteem about how I looked and my friend T looked fantastic, being one of the small percentage of human beings on the planet who can be skinny and have big boobs at the same time. 

But although I felt I looked halfway presentable, I still wasn't entirely down with running around buck naked all day on a beach in front of a bunch of other people. Yet, the allure of seeing all those other people (by which I mean men) without their clothes on, was enough to make me shed my bikini and head over the rocks to the mythical land of Nekkid Beach.

I don't really care if people see my bare butt. I'd prefer they didn't, but seeing my flat, white ass is much better than seeing me naked from the front, so I decided to strategically carry my towel in such a way that it hid everything I didn't want seen. Then I had an even better idea. If I went in the water, no one could see me, I'd still be naked and thus, not breaking the rules and incurring the wrath of the naked beach guardian, and I'd be able to have a perfect view of everyone else. I had found the ultimate loophole in nekkid beach voyeurism.

Now don't even ask me what I thought I was about to see. I think I assumed everyone would be beautiful - that the cast of Friends, which was still on back then, would be cavorting clothesless on the sand. Well let me be the first to tell you that they weren't. And neither were any of the other individuals who have populated my fantasies over the years.

The first thing I saw were a pack of elderly Germans playing beach volleyball. This is not something you want to see. It was like Oktoberfest on a bad trip and there were a lot of wieners, but none you'd ever want to, oh just never mind.

So I paddled around to see if I could find anyone else remotely attractive to stare at.

The Germans were just the start. I almost began to think that this was also an over-60 beach. Old people love to get naked on the beach apparently.

Hairy people love to get naked on the beach too. There was a lot of hair. 

And looking around, I gained a tremendous amount of confidence. Wow, I thought. I can't believe I'd ever think I didn't look good. Compared to these people I looked like "The Birth of Venus" coming up out of the ocean. All I needed was a pink clam shell.

I had a small revelation. Attractiveness, which is obviously very subjective, can also be relative. Relative to the people backstage at a Victoria's Secret runway show, I am a hideously deformed mess, but relative to the people at the nude beach, I'm a goddess and it felt pretty good. You take what you can get.

And I was about to get hit on.

Normally I'd be alarmed and maybe call for help if a naked man approached me on the beach, but hey, I was at a nude beach, so I tried to refrain from hysterics when a man waded out into the shallow water to hit on me.

He was a few years older than me and he was relatively attractive - kind of Jewish looking, which I sometimes like, being half, sort of Jewish myself (at least when I want to date Jewish guys). He also had an enormous penis.

There are pros and cons to meeting someone on a nude beach.

On the pro side, no surprises there. It's like getting a box of bonbons without the chocolate coating. You definitely know what you're going to get.

Con side? You're meeting someone at a nude beach. What will you tell your family? 

Besides that, I was still paddling on my stomach, trying to be discreet, but this dude was standing in front of me, with his enormous schlong right in my face. It reminded me of one of those big Polish sausages, the kind that they have to loop around to fit in the package. It was distracting to say the least. Small talk was impossible.

So where are you PENIS? Where you go to PENIS? Do you have any brothers and PENISES?

I'm just not mature enough to get to know someone who's naked, I guess.

But the guy was relentless and wouldn't go away. This was eleven years ago and he made such an impression on me that I still remember his name. Glenn. He lived in Calabasas, California. I will never forget him. Or his penis.

Finally I got him to go away, but as I saw him exiting the nude beach, I discovered another con. You can tell a lot about a guy by the way he dresses. Before he left, he pulled on a hot pink Speedo.

Moral of the story - if you want to feel sexy, go to the nude beach, but try not to get picked up by men who might be wearing hot pink Speedos.

And no, if you're wondering, I haven't been to another nude beach. I'm a strong advocate of bathing suits.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

That's why I read this blog -- you've had so many adventures! Sometimes I wish I hadn't led such a cloistered lifestyle! LOL

JoeinVegas said...

We hit the nude beach down in St. Martin several years ago. Yes, it seemed that everyone was over 70 or over 300 pounds. Except for one woman that looked like a model.
I still vividly remember the older large woman that ran a tourist shop, wearing nothing but a little chain around her waist.

Saipanderson said...

Hilarous! So true about the nude beach "enforcer"-- completely spot on!

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