You won't believe this, but two weeks ago, after a party, one of my university friends paid me £20 to get naked in my flat. It's weirder than it sounds: she wasn't even there. We'd all been drinking and it got to the point where everyone was starting to trickle home. I was seeing my friend Jamie out of the flat, when she pulled me over and whispered in my ear.
"Ben," she said. "Ben this is going to sound strange, but after your flatmates go away tomorrow night, spend the day in your flat, naked. All day. Don't wear any clothes once the door closes for 12 hours, ok?"
She slips £20 into my hand and then heads out of the door.
I shake my head, bemused, and after checking the flat for any last guests, go to bed.
Of course, the next morning, Sam and Tina are off on their Geography away day, measuring rivers or something. It's Saturday, and Jamie's words come back to me.
"Why not?" I say to myself, and hurry back around the flat, drawing curtains everywhere.
And then I strip.
At first, it's weird. I feel oddly ... vulnerable. I keep ducking down and watching where I'm going so I don't catch myself on anything.
Then it's liberating. I wander around feeling ... free.
Then I kind of forget about it and get on with my weekend.
Well ...almost. You know what I mean.
Anyway, that's not the interesting bit. Because yesterday, something even weirder happened.
It's Friday, it's about 11am and I'm just coming out of my first and only lecture when Jamie comes running up to me outside the building, thrusts a piece of paper and a small bag into my hand and runs off before I have a chance to say anything. My classmates look at me, bemused, but I shrug and make an excuse.
For some reason, call it intuition, whatever, my mouth has gone dry and that strange, naked day has come to mind. I know something's up.
I head into the toilets, find a cubicle and open the note.
"Hey Ben," it says. "Wasn't that liberating the other week? Want to try something even more fun? If so, read on."
I shrug. Shit, might as well -- I'm not doing anything else that day. There's a rough map with an X on it just ... around the coast, I think.
"Today, I'm staging a straight line race with a difference. There are around ten contestants. Everyone starts from different places, everyone ends up at the same place. Every five hundred paces, everyone removes an item of clothing and tags it with a GPS tag, leaving it on the floor somewhere. If you fail to tag something, you lose. The first person people to reach this point will receive £500. The second, third and fourth people will receive £100. The fifth person will receive £50. Everyone else gets nothing. So be fast if you compete. Your starting point is the large climbing rock along the cliff path where we saw the kid slide down the side of the cliffs and land unharmed, ok? Race starts at 11.30, walk west."
Shit. I realise that I just about have enough time to grab something to eat and make it to the starting point. My mind is clear -- so why not?
Well, because I'll end up naked in public, that's why. But that voice is a very small, quiet voice in my head at the moment. I could really use the money -- that's a louder voice.
I race to a cafe, buying water and wolfing down a sandwich, before hurrying along the beach. Now, Jamie's straight line parties are a bit famous. It all started off after a night out when she complained it was too slow getting back to her flat and someone told her actually, as the crow flies, it wasn't that far.
So she walked in a straight line to prove them wrong. Through other people's gardens, over their fences, along the middle of the road. Thankfully, we live in a town where a third of the population are students, so I think most people found it funny.
But this ... this is different. And I love it. Even if it scares me.
I hurry past tourists, other students, cyclists, barely hearing the gulls and lapping waves. It's really very idyllic, but all I can think about is the race. It starts getting quieter and quieter. Eventually, I reach the point on the cliff path where I can see the big, uneven rock that the rock climbing society uses as an initiation. It's about sixty feet high and scares the shit out of me. Jamie and I once saw kids slide from this point down to the beach by the huge rock and high-five each other. We shuddered -- maybe we're too old for this kind of thing?
Today, there's no-one on it -- in fact, there's no-one here at all, just me and the gulls. I can see the city stretch away before me in the distance, the ruined abbey, the clock tower and the harbour all very prominent. It smells of seaweed and salt.
My watch says 11.29am, so I hurriedly remove my shoes and socks, attaching a GPS tag from the bag to each. At least, I assume it's a GPS tag -- there's nothing else in there. I wonder if Jamie has any clothes at the finishing line. Or what happens when you run out of clothes -- or what happens if people are wearing more clothes than others. Shit. Maybe this isn't such a good idea.
I start walking straight west. That's the good thing about this path -- it's pretty straight, although it does duck down to the beach after a while.
Five hundred paces isn't much. I drop my first shoe after just a few minutes. My second shortly after that as I follow the path down the shoreline, passing a jogger.
"Hey, Ben!"
Oh ... shit.
It's Tina. The jogger is my flatmate Tina.
"Uh, hey Tina," I manage. "What's up?"
"Ah, nuttin," she says. "Just enjoying the weather, the weekend, chilling out, you know."
"Sure," I stammer, and we walk together for a while. I manage to drop my next sock without her noticing, and the next.
"Uh, so I'm getting all back to nature," I say ... bloody hell, how lame does that sound. "You know,"
"What?" she says. "Like, out here?"
"Yeah," I say, counting my five hundredth step. "You know, losing my inhibitions."
And I peel off my t-shirt, just about managing to clip a tag to it discretely and leaving it behind.
"Ben!" the little blonde says. "That's littering!"
"I'll be back for it, I promise," I say.
But five hundred paces later, I don't really have a good excuse for what I'm about to do.
"Ok Tina," I say, flushing furiously. I will not lose, I tell myself. "Don't be shocked ok?"
And I peel off my jeans. She just stares at me as I kick them behind a rock as a family walks past, staring. Shit. I'm mortified. The mum and dad shake their heads as they walk past, presumably cursing students in this town for ruining even the nice beach walks. Shit. At least I'm in my pants.
"So, you going to go the full hog?" she asks with a sly grin
"Sure," I say, suddenly enjoying the exhibitionism. "Why not? Care to join me?"
She laughs. "Maybe... You know I'm a wild child at heart."
Five hundred paces later we hit a completely clear stretch of beach. It's beautiful. So it seems appropriate to take off my last remaining garment. Tina simply stares as I pull my pants down and cast them away, behind a large boulder. Damn. I'm butt naked in front of my flatmate. She stares at me. I'm mortified.
"So what happens now?" She asks, cheekily.
"We stroll," I say, my dick twitching. I can't work out if this is hot or not. I feel ... uncomfortable but also free.