It was a quiet Memorial Day out here—warm, sunny, and all that. Usually there’s people around, especially lately, what with all the activity going on. The place is ultimately to become a restricted “neighborhood,†but not for some time yet; probably franksolich’ll be gone by the time that happens.
The property caretaker, along with Joe and Jose, both of Texan derivation, and some itinerant labor, has been redoing the private road from the highway two miles north of here, down to here. And Joe and Jose are using their landscaping skills around here.
I’m like a piece of old furniture that isn’t needed any more, but which one keeps simply because there’s plenty of room for it; it’s not hurting anything being kept around. Thus franksolich.
I have a couple of visitors,
femmes, here this weekend, but usually I sent them somewhere else with other people to do “fun†things because I tire out too quickly, and don’t want to hold anybody up.
I wish I’d thought of this earlier in life, offloading visitors on other people when I’m not really up to it; as it is, because they were my visitors, I figured I had to be the one to keep them entertained, which could sometimes be difficult. It simplifies life considerably, sloughing them off on people more sociable than I am.
It’s not that I’m honestly anti-social; in fact, like all the members of my family, I have a need, an urge, to be friendly and outgoing—but being deaf, there’s a certain, uh, obstacle to that. If I have to be, or feel an urgent need to be, I can be that way, but generally it’s too much time and trouble.
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The three of us did however go down to the river for an early morning swim, the temperature already nearing seventy degrees circa 6:00 a.m. There were some hippies camping down there, but obviously being Bernie bullies, they’d dope-smoked themselves into an oblivion that would probably last until noon, if not later.
But while I was building a fire on the shore while the two
femmes were far out in the water swimming, two hippie dudes came out of the tent and walked up to me. They had no idea who I was, and I explained I was the legal tenant of the property, the guy who’d given them permission via the property caretaker that they could camp here this weekend.
I also reminded them that most who camp here, clean up after themselves, keeping the river in readiness for the next group. But as they’re Bernie bullies who think only of themselves, I was doubtful the hint was absorbed.
One of the hippie dudes, taking a deep breath, finally got around to asking a question that’s usually on the mind of anyone seeing franksolich for the first time. “How come you’re naked, man?â€
“Well,†I said, indicating the two faraway women in the water, “we’re out here swimming, and I like to swim naked.â€
“But what about the chicks?†he asked; “do they like to swim naked?â€
“I dunno,†I said, “but I don’t allow it. This might seem an isolated, out-of-the-way place where hardly anybody comes, but you’d be surprised who shows up, and at the most awkward times. Being a man, I don’t have anything to worry about, but I don’t want perverts and weirdos bothering the women here.
“I know it sounds rather Islamic, but the rule is that women associated with me
have to be covered even if they’d rather not be, for their own safety.â€
About the time I was done explaining that, two chicks thrust their heads out of the tent, and seeing the three of us talking by the campfire, got up and sauntered over, eyeballing me with more curiosity than they needed to.
“Doesn’t it bother you to be seen like this?†one of the Berniechicks asked; “I mean, I think it’s cool one can be oneself out here, doing what one wants, letting it all hang out, but right now, you have all these people staring at you—“
“Two for whom I’m a familiar sight, who aren’t staring,†I interrupted, “and four being utter strangers, who’ll probably never see me again in their lives, who don’t count.
“As long as I’m not caught bare-assed by elderly people, respectable women, members of the clergy, and children, I don’t much care.
“It’s okay to stare,†I reminded them, “but usually, it’s not as if people haven’t seen a naked man before.â€
Then I thought of something. “You know, we conservative Republican ‘fundies’ are supposed to be uptight, nervous, on edge, inhibited about sex, while everybody on your side alleges to be wanton libertines on the matter, hopping around in the sack with anything that moves, and some things that don’t.
“But if that’s so, how come sex is freely discussed on conservativecave, while it’s apparently taboo on Skins’s island? You guys really need to get on Skins about setting up a sex forum, in the Recreation Group; given time, it’d probably generate more traffic than the cooking and baking forum.â€
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My two swim-suited
femme visitors having joined us, there were now being seven us standing around the fire, and I the only one without anything on, I began feeling outnumbered, and decided I’d go back up to the house to put on some clothes. But as I walked towards the ATV, the two Berniechicks decided they’d come with me, ostensibly to use the indoor facilities of the house.
Sure, fine, whatever, I said.
When we got to the house, where I donned a pair of gym shorts while the two Berniechicks remained on the back porch, but then when I emerged clothed, the two of them were sitting out there
au naturel.
For being Bernie bullies, they actually weren’t half bad-looking; still being in their twenties, their bodies retained the original slim firmness and their hips hadn’t yet blown out to grotesque balloons. It was nice that their cantaloupe-sized jugs were not only solid, but in exact aesthetic proportion to the rest of their bodies.
Problem however.
These being self-centered Berniechicks, they probably wouldn’t be any good poking, and since my heart attack a year ago, I haven’t been interested in poking unless it’s assured to be good poking. I don’t have the energy and stamina I used to have to go around poking at every opportunity presenting itself, never minding if it was good or bad.
But as they looked crestfallen that I’d dressed, I undressed.
It was obvious they expected me to take charge and start something, but I indicated it’d be better if we chatted first, so as to get better acquainted. The two of them sucked on dope as the three of us idly sat around, talking about things that two naked women and a naked guy talk about, when together.
One of them commented about my seemingly feral appearance, because of my long unruly hair and of course that I was in the raw, like Tarzan. The other however objected, alleging Tarzan probably wasn’t trimmed like I was, and besides, “he’s too flat, and his arms and thighs too skinny to have allowed him to swing from vines.â€
However, as they seemed generally satisfied, I let it go. But after they started getting high, there were dropped hints they’d like some action, while I wasn’t up to giving any action, especially when it wasn’t likely it’d be any good, being with Berniechicks and all that.
Fortunately, I was saved by the unexpected arrival of the property caretaker along with Joe and Jose, the three of them sweat-covered and ready for some beer and relaxation. The property caretaker’s caught me in delicate situations before, so the sight wasn’t unusual to him.
Joe and Jose aren’t quite used to franksolich yet, but seemed okay with the whole deal after I suggested they take the two Berniechicks out to the front porch, where there’s plenty of furniture on which to play. It worked out well, as the Berniechicks seemed willing--but sorry I wasn’t--and because by coincidence I owed Joe and Jose a couple of favors anyway.
