In my senior year of college for spring break my folks took us to Hilton Head. While a great idea in theory, and wildly generous, it was about fifteen degrees cooler than it should have been at that time of the year, making doing much of anything outside pretty miserable.
We couldn’t swim, and playing golf was iffy as the cold temperatures plus the wind made it uncomfortable.
Oh, and it rained several of the days.
There wasn’t much to do, so I spent each day engaged in one of favorite activities – bath taking. Since we had nothing going on, I partied in the bathtub a good two hours a day. I had just started getting into Carlos Castaneda and was moving through the Don Juan books learning the warrior ways of the Aqui. Sitting in a bath. With bubbles. Some power I was harvesting, right?
By the way, let’s go back to this spring break college thing. Now, my family was not rich, but also not poor. I worked a job most of my time at college. I never had enough dough to go anywhere cool. I never had enough dough to go anywhere. Plus, and I’m reasonably confident about this, I was never invited to go on Spring Break with anyone. I stopped drinking by junior year, so maybe that had something to do with it. Oh, and I couldn’t have afforded it anyway. But still – not one invite? I was in a fraternity. People liked me! At least I think so. What a bunch of dicks.
Well, at least my folks thought to take me somewhere. That was cool.
So Hilton Head was kind of a bust and our family found ourselves staying in at the condo and relaxing most of the time.
I did finally get to see Casablanca and Lawrence of Arabia on VHS, which was worth the trip itself. Goddamn do I love that Lawrence of Arabia.
One afternoon as I was enjoying a glass of water, Castaneda, a bowl of chips, and a soak, I realized it was time to get out of the tub. Two hours was plenty and I was ready for a nap. I’m a busy guy, you know.
So, I thought it might be funny to leap up from the bathtub, exit the bathroom and do a fast lap around the living room soaking wet and naked where everyone was congregating.
You know, like any normal twenty-one year old who is on vacation with his parents and sister.
Of course I had the decency to cover my genitals with one of my free hands. I never went to finishing school, but I had read enough Emily Post. I have manners, you know.
The problem was that my parents laughed. My sister got nauseous, but she’s way uptight.
And so began a tradition of me during a holiday running a bath and then leaping around the house nude in front of my family. I tried hard not to repeat it too often. It’s a one-note gag and, like Ethiopian food, needn’t be experienced but once a year. Tops
Over time the laughs decreased and I would only receive a smile or soft chuckle from my mother.
I stopped this practice entirely several years ago when my Dad and sister got legitimately pissed one Christmas Eve. Apparently they had enough. They did, however, hand in there for a solid ten years, so I understand.
But I’m thinking of bringing it back for one final run. As I streak the house, maybe it would be better received if I put one of those sticky bows on my chest and wear a Santa hat.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.