Last night, McIrish and I had the unique experience of sharing the family house on Cape Cod with my sister. We’d been there all together in the past, but with kids…this time, it was just the three of us to do a few final chores before we close the house, to hang out and get silly and yes, drink some wine.
Conversation turned to nudism. One of us had heard of a nude cruise vacation—nuises, as I started calling them. My sister enacted possible conversations and situations…sitting in recently vacated chair, for example, or bumping against someone in the hall as they’ve just left the bathroom. “Everyone would get Parvo,” I wheezed, ever thinking of cleanliness. My sister obliged us by demonstrating potential poses to keep certain parts off certain surfaces. She has a very strong core.
Talk turned to swimming nude in the ocean, which I did once, in Sweden for a grand total of 12 seconds. (It was after being in a sauna, and when in Sweden…) I said it was something men think is sexy, but women have to consider the real-life complications. McIrish began to mansplain why there would be no complications, to which I said, “In a porno, you’re right. In real life, we have to think about these things. Also, you’re a man, so you lose this argument, since you don’t have the right parts.” He conceded.
Back to the nuises…did people take towels to sit on, as they do in the saunas of Sweden? Was the crew also naked? Did they hand you a container of Clorox Clean-Up wipes as you boarded? How much more sunscreen would you use? What if you were eating something hot, and it fell off your fork? The disco nights…the shuffleboard.
This morning, McIrish told me I had agreed to go on such a cruise. Listen. I might have had a little wine last night, but there’s not enough Chardonnay in the world to make me agree to that. Still, if you’re a nuiser, hey. Whatever floats your boat.
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