Lost On the Nude Beach

Yes, I go to a nude beach. With my boyfriend. Think what you will; I like having God gaze down upon my bare (and now quite pink) ass as I watch the waves roll in. I know He has a wide prudish streak, but if dropping my bathing suit for a day is out-of-bounds, then hell is overrun with pygmies. I find this unlikely.

My boyfriend and I are at the nude beach, settled a few yards behind a lifeguard stand. It’s a gorgeous, clear day; throngs of people pack the beach. Mid-afternoon I go for a swim, leaving my boyfriend with his book. Forty-five minutes later I head back to our towels. When I get to the lifeguard stand, I scan the beach for our spot.

If you’ve ever looked for an average-sized person on a congested beach, you know the stomach lurch that accompanies the realization that you may never see them again. If you’re on a nude beach, the panic is doubled, as there are no identifying bathing suits to aid in your quest. We had situated ourselves behind a lifeguard stand; of this I am sure. I must be in the right place. Unless. . .

Unless I’m at the wrong stand.

Could the water have pulled me that far over without my noticing? It was calm; I’d felt no undertow. Still, I have to go looking.

I trudge off toward the next lifeguard stand. It’s a good distance away. The sand scorches my feet, and my gait takes on a pained, hopping bounce most unflattering to my breasts. I move toward the water and take up my journey, eyes searching for my boyfriend. This is also a trial: As I move farther from the beach, my eyes strain, distracting me from sucking in my stomach. When I try to do both, my diaphragm goes into spasm.

When I come to the next lifeguard stand, I cut up onto the beach. I look hard in every direction. No boyfriend. I wonder if I could possibly be looking right past him, like he was hidden in plain sight. I hope not; I like to think I’d recognize his face, if not his penis. Crowded beach or not.

Diaphragm aquiver, I head back from where I came. Judging by the amused sympathy in people’s eyes, I know I look desperately lost. (Looking lost dressed is one thing. Looking lost naked is entirely another.) I can’t even ask anyone to use their cell phone. Despite my memory for phone numbers, I find my boyfriend’s impossible to remember. I quiz myself periodically, but under this kind of pressure, I’m guaranteed to choke. There’s nothing to do but keep moving.

“Excuse me,” a woman asks. “Are you lost?”

There’s no question she’s talking to me. “Yes!” I cry, like I’ve been rescued after 58 days on a life raft without food or water. “I am!”

“Come. You’re down this way. Your towel is next to mine.”

As the woman leads me away, I become aware that my ass feels slightly burned. I think how much worse it could have been. Heat stroke, dehydration, windburn. . . this could have ended in tragedy. Survivor shows on the Discovery Channel, like “I Shouldn’t Be Alive,” come to mind.

I wonder if they’d be interested in my story.


12 thoughts on “Lost On the Nude Beach

  1. Truly funny, June! If you could see me right now I have a huge smile on my face. You are a braver woman than I! It’s hard for me to throw a suit on and fake confidence as I head for the water, let alone sashay my growing ass on a nude beach. This is inspiring…but way over my head! Glad you were reunited with your mate and shared this humorous story with us!

    1. Thanks, Annie. I’m just self conscious enough about my body to be neurotic on this beach, but not enough to keep me from going. At least you’re clear on your position.

  2. This post truly had me laughing out loud, June. It’s one of those predicaments that sounds so familiar, and yet at the same time has elements that I’ve never thought of before. “…then hell is overrun with pygmies,” “no identifying bathing suits to aid in your quest,” “I like to think I’d recognize his face, if not his penis.” I can just see it all. I love that someone finally recognized you… how, I wonder? Thanks for this unforgettable little story.

  3. That is funny albeit a bit scary. I think the panic of not having your bearings would have been the same but the lack of markers such as swimming suit color would add to the panic.

    Good for you that you are that comfortable with your body. I have more hang ups than hooks in a meat locker. I not only would need a one piece swimming suit but a cover up as well. Truly in my world, I want a 1920’s style beach. The one where the pantaloons come below the knees.

    1. More hang ups than hooks in a meat locker…pantaloons…too funny. If your sense of direction is as bad as mine, it’s probably best that you stay away from nude beaches.

  4. That was hilarious. I’ve been to a nude beach and pool, and your line about not being able to identify your boyfriend by his bathing suit really stood out, so to speak. The “in crowd” at the nude beach used to call the folks hanging out, sort of, on the clothed side, the prude beach.

    1. Stood out, so to speak. Hanging out, sort of. The way your mind works cracks me up. When someone’s naked, it occurs to me, they can’t have a rocket in their pocket. That’s all I’ll say about that.

  5. One of my former husbands loved going to the Nude Beach. I went along with him, but he didn’t remove his trunks, nor did he want me to slip off the bikini. He simply wanted to sit there and look at the people. I felt like a total pervert the first time. There is nothing offensive about nudity to me. But if I go to a nude beach, I want to take off my clothes too so I don’t stand out. I refused to go again with him.

    In Europe there are a lot of people sunbathing nude. In America, we somehow equate nudity with sex and they really are not the same thing. In fact, for sex, I always keep something on. At a nude beach I never do.

    1. Linda, I’m with you. If I’m going to be on a nude beach, I’m going to be nude. And you’re right, we Americans are too uptight about our bodies. That you’re willing to be seen naked is, in my mind, a positive. Thanks so much for your comment.

  6. June, you, my friend, are a brave, brave woman! I have a hard enough time going to the beach in a bathing suit, imagine going nude! No can do, sister. I consider myself confident and self-assured except when it comes to being naked. Good for you! You’re an inspiration to us all! May I someday take your cue and bare my ass to anyone who cares to look. In the meantime, I’ll live vicariously through you. Funny post!

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