“We Took Off Running Through the Sand, Pulling Off Our Clothes”
“Donna” lives in Knoxville, Tennessee and works as a congressional aide. This summer, she and four of her friends decided spend the Fourth of July weekend with their friend “Tiffany” in Florida. They weren’t all tight friends; Donna had known “Marc” slightly in college, through friends of hers who lived with him, but they never really got to know each other. However, since the trip required all five of them to share a car on the way down, and then to share Tiffany’s tiny condo, they got to know one another quickly.
Donna had never paid attention to Marc, but he had gotten cooler in the three years that had passed since college. Also, “his style was better,” and he had grown a rough beard. She was feeling sort of interested in him, but something else was needed to make her act on her attraction. If only there were a readily available substance you could drink that would drastically lower your inhibitions. Where could such a substance be obtained? Fate provided them with an answer. Tiffany lives near a bar called the Flora-Bama, and on Saturday night, they all piled into “Beth”‘s Montero to go party there.
The Flora-Bama is an enormous roadhouse which gets its name from being located directly on the border of Florida and Alabama. It’s a popular spot to celebrate July 4th; it was packed, and there was a live band playing. The Florida half of the bar has less stringent liquor laws, so that’s where they hung out. Donna was doing shots of Jagermeister and drinking something called a Bushwacker, which is pistachio-colored and tastes like a milkshake, but “makes you shitfaced.”
The result of this was “bein’ ridiculous,” dancing with Marc and getting rowdy. Meanwhile, Tiffany had her eye on “Luke,” the other dude who was with them. In the course of their drinking, dancing and flirting, Donna and Tiffany decided they wanted to go skinny-dipping. The bar isn’t exactly on the water, but it’s “pretty close” to it (something to do with the Alabama Gulf Coast, I think), near enough to almost see it in the dark. They went outside and the two women “took off running through the sand, pullin’ off our clothes.”
Their jump into black water, Donna says, felt liberating, “like diving into an abyss.” They swam around for a while, but they guys didn’t join them. They came back on land, dripping wet, and put their clothes back on.
It seems likely that Donna’s success with Marc had little to do with her clothes, and more to do with the fact that she kept taking them off. Also, though, I have noticed that lately I’ve been kind of ignoring the actual clothes that get people laid. I know why it is, too. It’s because I don’t have any money, and I don’t want to think about all the beautiful things that I can’t afford to buy. It’s so depressing, I’m avoiding the whole subject. I got a new Lucky magazine in the mail last week, and I can’t even bear to read it. It’s still wrapped in plastic. Before the economic downturn, “reading” that magazine was the most satisfying part of my month! I’m a victim of the Bush administration’s failed policies! Does anyone want to buy me some new shit? Anyhow, Donna was wearing Daisy Dukes made from a pair of Lux jeans, and an American Apparel tri-blend tank top.
The finest part of her outfit was a pair of Cynthia Vincent gladiator sandals. She didn’t want to stick her wet, dirty feet into a pair of $200 sandals, so when they got back inside she made “Beth” trade shoes with her.
Before they left, Donna went to pay her tab, and found to her chagrin that owed $110. That’s a hell of a lot of Jagermeister! She “had to pay that shit,” and they were off to the car. (She admonished Beth several times to “be careful” walking in her sandals.) On the way home, she slurred at Marc, “You know, I just never thought you were cute, but since we’ve been hangin’ out, I just really think you are cute. You’ve just become a hot guy.” She doesn’t remember how he responded to this praise but says he was probably “feelin’ all like a pimp.” Back at the house, the two of them took their shirts off and started to mess around in one of the bedrooms, until somebody walked in on them.
Donna, Luke, Tiffany and Marc wanted to go skinny-dipping again, so they all got naked in the apartment complex pool. Oddly, the two non-skinny dippers decided to walk over and observe. Maybe they wanted to save their friends from concussions and a watery grave, or maybe they had just always wanted to see an orgy, but either way, it was “awkward” having them watch. The four naked people escaped this scrutiny by walking over to a random condo’s pool nearby. They got in the water and both couples started fooling around.
Most people would be psyched to look out their window and see this going on, because what better way to celebrate FREEDOM than with some “free” pornography that you can watch from your balcony? One hater ruined it for everyone else, though. She yelled down at them “Hey! You guys can’t be doin’ that!”, and they had to leave. It was time to go to sleep.
The next day, the Knoxvillians all drove home. There’s more to this story, though, since Donna and Marc lived in the same city. What will happen next, and are they finally going to fuck? Tomorrow’s post will resolve this cliffhanger, so check back soon!