So there I was after a shower on a fine Saturday morning, just chilling and checking emails or whatever it is that one does post-shower and pre-clothes, when I suddenly heard what appeared to be a stampede of rhinoceroses? — rhinoceri? — galloping up my fire escape.
In an attempt to not be an accidental one-woman-peep-show I rolled myself off the bed and hid, crouching on all fours behind a pile of laundry. Once the coast sounded safe I stood up. That was a close one. But instead I found myself face to face with a straggler who clearly couldn’t run up stairs as fast as his loud counterparts.
I’ve since invested in curtains.
The New York Times published a hilarious chronicle of various naked encounters that seem all too common in a city where it’s assumed everyone is too concerned in their own lives to notice an unclothed person in their midst — but they notice alright. The stories range from the casual “naked guy” across the window of a corporate office, to a family who dines in the nude. “The husband was grilling naked,” wrote one of the interviewees. “That’s a little dangerous.” Indeed.
Either New York houses a bunch of exhibitionists or, like, me, just a lot of people who forget about the accessibility of the fire escape…and a robe, I suppose.
Do you have a naked story? You know we have to hear it.