A fictional story about fictional characters.
*****
It had been three frustrating long months since her totally thoughtful, wonderful nerd of a fiancée, Dr. Leonard Hofstadter, had bought Penny a used car so that she could drive to her auditions and not have to go back to work at the Cheesecake Factory; thereby keeping her dream of becoming a successful actress alive. But the dream was on life support as the ensuing months had been mostly fruitless. She had done plenty of auditions, along with hundreds of other unemployed hopeful actresses, and had few job offers. One commercial was all that she had brought home a paycheck for, and only her feet had appeared in the "pedicure product" advertisement. She had received several offers for an "extra," which she would have accepted, but they all required nudity and she was giving herself every opportunity to avoid that. If worst came to worst, she may have to surrender, but she didn't want her parents or anyone in her hometown to see that.
Leonard had given her the car with no strings attached, but she had made a vow to herself that she would pay him back. In addition, she was nearly desperate for some income. They had not set a date for their wedding, she still lived alone and had the normal expenses. She was pretty sure that Leonard would have gladly moved in with her and shared the living costs, but they both wanted to wait until they actually tied the knot. In the back of her mind, she wondered if, even then, Leonard would be able to break away from his manipulative roommate, Dr. Sheldon Cooper. They were both employed by CalTech, Pasadena, just a short drive from their apartment building, and had been roommates for several years. Sheldon had even made Leonard sign their infamous "roommate agreement" which seemingly had a clause governing Leonard's every move. Penny thought there was probably a section stating that the only way to escape the "agreement" was death.
Thinking back, although she would never have guessed it at the time, her renting that particular apartment was the luckiest move of her life. She had met Leonard that very first day and fate had begun to work its magic. Thinking that Leonard was a nice harmless neighbor, she never would have imagined that she would come to think of him as the love of her life. Snapping back to her present dilemma, Penny began once more to scan the audition list and help-wanted ads in the local newspaper (she could just hear Sheldon scolding her, "print is dead"). She circled an audition for a new brand of corn-chip and headed out the door.
There were probably seventy-five young women and men in the large waiting room, some spilling out into the hall when she arrived. She struck up a conversation with a beautiful, long-haired brunette as they waited their turn. Kelly was in incredibly sweet person, and was in almost the same predicament as Penny: in desperate need of money and work. Kelly confided to Penny that she was currently working part-time as a cocktail waitress at a private ranch/club in the poolside bar. Raving about the tips, the exclusivity of the members, and the outdoor atmosphere, she offered to get Penny an interview the very next day because she knew the manager had already scheduled two others. Reluctant to go back to being a waitress, Penny reasoned with herself that at least it wasn't the Cheesecake Factory, and Kelly told her that she could work as many or as few hours as she wanted. Taking the address from Kelly, they walked out of the building together when the assistant director announced that the part had been cast.
At the appointed time the next day, Penny drove to the address Kelly had given her. It was only about twenty minutes from her apartment in a very secluded location totally surrounded by orange groves. Kelly had told her it was an exclusive, private club but Penny was not prepared for the imposing gate and guard shack that confronted her when she drove up. A large ornate sign declared "Freedom Ranch," and smaller signs advising "Private" and "Members Only." She was so intent on reading the large signs that a smaller one escaped her view: "Clothing Optional." A very stern security guard approached her car and asked for some identification and what her business was. Stuttering, she blurted out that she was here for a job interview, and had been referred by Kelly. Not realizing it before, she had not even gotten Kelly's last name.
Luckily Kelly had left her name on the guest list and the guard, much more friendly now, gave her directions to the administration building. There was a fork in the road; left turn for the "Administration Building," and right turn for "Country Club." She turned left and parked her car. There were a few offices and an employees locker room. Finding the manager's office she knocked and was greeted by a middle-aged man who immediately reminded her of the Mr. Roper character from the old sit-com "Three's Company." He was pleasant enough, told her to call him Henry, and they discussed her waitress experience, and seemed excited when she mentioned that the Cheesecake Factory had trained her as a bartender.
Now she knew she was no great shakes as a bartender, but she could follow directions and knew how to read from her tablet. If there was a recipe on the Internet, she could make the drink. He informed her that there was an immediate opening for a bartender at the outdoor pool bar where Kelly worked as a waitress. He told her a little about the history of the Club: the whole property had once been orange groves, but a few years back when the California drought first began, the owner had balked at the high cost of irrigation and decided to clear part of the land and establish a country club. The membership tended to be very rich and many of them were quite famous. He informed her that many retired athletes, business executives and even some famous Hollywood actors were members.
Henry asked her if she was interested in the job, and when she answered in the affirmative he offered to take her on a tour of the Club. Then he asked her a strange question: "did you bring a bikini bottom."
"Umm, pardon me," Penny asked, almost sure she had misunderstood.
"Well, you know the Club is clothing optional...that's another phrase for nudist," he declared, surprised at her reaction.
"I...I didn't know...Kelly never mentioned it," Penny answered, slightly in shock.
"Well I guess it's understandable," Henry explained, "once you've been around here for very long, it just seems so natural that you forget it is generally considered unusual. If you want to change your mind, I'll certainly understand. As a bartender you would be considered, by law, to be a food-preparation employee, even though the only "food preparation" you will be doing is pouring nuts into a bowl, which means you are required to wear clothing. It's an Orange County law, and a bikini bottom is considered clothing. That is all the Club rules will allow you to wear; they want you to blend in with the nudists as much as possible. A small apron is also permitted...you have to have a place to keep your pad and pen." He laughed at that statement and so did Penny.
Penny thought hard for several minutes, trying to weigh the pros and cons. She really needed the money and Kelly had bragged about the tips. When she went to the beach, her bikini was so tiny that she was almost nude anyway; she would only be showing her breasts, and she was really proud of them anyway. But what about Leonard...she would have to tell him; wouldn't she? Maybe she could just tell him she wore a bikini at the poolside bar...he would understand. He loved to show her off to acquaintances and strangers. Penny found herself blurting out, "I am definitely interested...let's take that tour."
"OK then," Henry sounded pleased, "there is a selection of clean bottoms in the changing room...employees are always forgetting theirs. We'll both get changed and meet back here. Employees get from here to the Club using electric golf carts." Retracing her steps to the locker room she had passed before, Penny found a whole rack of bikini bottoms hanging on tiny hangers. It seemed strange to see just the bottoms, no tops, hanging there. She noticed that there was also a large supply of bottles of sun screen. She selected a rather modest pink one and ducked into a booth to change. There were lockers, the kind where the key was attached to a wrist band and you took it with you. She was glad she had worn flats, because she would have felt conspicuous wearing high heels with just a bikini bottom.
Surprisingly she did not feel the least bit self-conscious as she left the locker room to find Henry. She enjoyed the reaction from Henry when he first saw her naked breasts...it was a reaction she was used to. Her breasts were a perfect 36 C, perfectly round and gloriously firm. Her large areola were capped with jellybean sized pink nipples which pointed slightly upward. To her surprise, the only clothing Henry was wearing was a lanyard around his neck containing several keys. He must have noticed her surprise because he merely commented, "I'm not a food-preparation employee." Trying not to stare, but unable to ignore it completely, she noticed that his penis was average in size and that he seemed to have an "all over" tan. He mentioned her shoes, "good choice; you are allowed to wear something on your feet because the sun gets hot, but remember you'll be walking on sand so high heels really don't cut it."
On the ride to the Club, Penny thought she noticed Henry glancing sideways several times, watching her tits jiggle every time the golf cart hit a bump. Once they made the turn to the Country Club, it was as if they had entered a tropical paradise. There were numerous bungalows along the way, many with golf carts parked outside and Henry explained that sometimes members stayed there for several days and that they were all luxuriously furnished. They passed tennis and basketball courts and a sign pointing to a "Golf Course." The tropical foliage parted and the pool area was visible. The pool itself was the size of a small lake and white sand had obviously been trucked in to make a wide beach area all the way around it. Lounge chairs, umbrellas, and small cabanas were scattered around the perimeter. The poolside bar was like a grass hut, open on all sides with a polished wooden bar counter running all the way around it. The area behind the counter was covered with every liquor bottle known to man and the colors were dazzling.
