Half-Nekkid Thursday

The face of a man who has seen his wife HALF-NEKKID at the beach


In honor of HNT, I will tell you a story about the time I got half-nekkid at Orient Beach, on the French side of the island of St Martin. It all began when MET, TJ and I were discussing which shore excursions we were going to book for our cruise. The cruiseline offers a variety of different things to do while in each port of call, and with a large group like we had (there were 10 of us) we thought some coordination beforehand might be in order.

For each port there were shopping excursions, several different types of snorkeling packages, sightseeing around the islands—the usual. I happened to notice that on the island of St Maarten they were offering a 4x4 jeep tour around the island-said tour ending at the clothing optional Orient Beach. Now, the most fun thing that Fozzie and I did on our last cruise was a dune buggy tour out to a beach at Costa Maya Mexico. The dune buggy tour had us driving thru jungles and pig trails and we were absolutely soaked in mud by the time we were finished—and laughing like a couple of kids.

I mentioned to MET and TJ that the 4x4 jeeps looked to be as much fun as the dune buggies, the only catch being that it ended at a nude beach. Well, MET immediately rejects any talk of nude beaches and vows to find something else to do. TJ entertained the idea for awhile, and we discussed whether or not we would have the nerve to go topless in front of strangers, let alone our friends. That didn’t last long, and TJ eventually backed out too, leaving just me and Fozzie going to Orient Beach by jeep.

The day we hit St Maarten was hot and beautiful. The excursion was scheduled for 4 hours, beginning on the Dutch side and traveling over to the French side at Orient Beach.
Fozzie and I teamed up with an older couple from Chattanooga who all agreed to let me do the driving. One of the other folks from our ship was a gentleman all decked out in Razorback red and after talking to him a little, I realized that he and CombatMom were from the same neck of the woods and said as much to him. Not thinking any more of it, we all loaded up in our jeeps and headed out around the island.

I could give you a National Geographic rundown on the island, but if you are reading this, you have the internet available and can find out about it for yourself. Suffice it to say that at the end of 3 hours we wound up at the most beautiful beach I have ever seen.
The water was shades of blue that are hard to describe. Lounge chairs with umbrellas were available and my extremely Irish-skinned Fozzie found us a set immediately. Of course, we had completely forgotten to use or bring any sunscreen, so to prevent further cooking of tender flesh we needed shade.

Now, I had not worn a bathing suit for this trip,just shorts and tank tops as I didn’t plan on getting in the water. Did I mention that it was hot? We get ourselves parked in our chairs, Fozzie adjusts the umbrella to make sure that it will cover us both and we sit for a moment sweltering and enjoying the view. I had thought that only a part of Orient Beach was clothing optional, but as I look around me I notice a woman near us sunbathing. She has a very dark tan, so dark and even that it took me 2 glances to realize she was topless. Now, thats a tan! We continue to sit and swelter but notice that there is an extremely good breeze coming in off the water. Fozzie decides that he is going to take his shirt off.
He is so fair skinned that he usually stays covered at the beach, but this day was so hot and the breeze was so inviting that he decided to risk it. Plus we had the umbrella, which was Fozzie sized. So on the spur of the moment, I decide that I would do it if he would, and we both doffed our shirts.

The world did not come to a screeching halt, no one screamed, laughed or ran for cover.
But just to make sure, I laid back on the lounge chair and put my floppy hat over my face.
That way I would not see any horrified looks that might come my way as I laid there looking like a tee shirt I recall from the 70s. You know, the one with the 2 fried eggs on it? Yeah, so hardly believing that I’d had the nerve and relying on the old adage “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” I got half-nekkid at Orient Beach. On a Thursday.

The next day I ran into CombatMom at the casino bar and she was talking to the Razorback guy. We spent some time roundly abusing Jr while talking NASCAR and CombatMom tells how she had asked Razorback if he was the guy I had mentioned running into the other day. I jump in and say “Oh that was yesterday, blah blah blah”, and mention “that it was only yesterday” several times. At some point along the way I realize to my horror that if it was yesterday, it was because that was right before we went to Orient Beach. THIS NICE GUY HAS SEEN ME HALF-NEKKID!!! And bless his heart, he is gentlemanly enough not to mention it. As CombatMom and I are walking away from the bar, I relate to her my horror at realizing this guy has seen me half-nekkid, but was kind enough not to mention the fact.

And then it occurs to me. It becomes my mantra, and I use it to good effect when I am relating this whole story later to my Mom, who naturally freaks out that “Good God, here I’ve been worrying that it would be my oldest grandchild who winds up on the Girls Gone Wild video and it turns out that YOU have been running around topless at the beach!!!” I smiled down the phone and said “Mom, its ok. People may have seen ME topless at the beach, but they will all think it was My Evil Twin”. Mom and MET are not amused by that thought, but it sure amuses me. Sometimes having an Evil Twin works to your advantage.