Argh! My Eyes!

I work with a highschool kid whom we'll call, for lack of any other realistic images coming to mind, Breezy.

You'll soon know why.

Last night, while observing the infamous Checkers to the Death match between Malystryx and myself, Breezy commented that a friend of his had been "flapping around without any pants" that evening.

Well, eww. Thanks for that enjoyable mental nightmare. I don't wish to imagine anyone "flapping", with or without clothes. I really, really don't. (And as I've already explained my overactive imagination to you, you'll realize that I was quite hung up on the whole "flapping" visual for the rest of the night.)

Tonight, Breezy explained that yesterday he went swimming with 7 of his friends at one of his friend's houses.

Sounds like fun, I said.

He agreed it had been fun. Then he explained that immediately following swimming, all 8 of them decided to run through the streets of our city, from one friend's house to another's, stark naked.

Flapping, indeed.

Now I had 8 flapping 16 year olds jogging inside my head. I swear there isn't enough medication in my cabinet to take care of that.

While I was trying to perform a brisk mental anti-nightmarish-image scrub, Malystryx was laying into our friend. Something about being arrested for indecent exposure.

I think if his parents ever found out, he'd be lucky to have anything left to "flap".

My mental image scrub completed, I decided to interview Breezy, hoping to discover the thought process behind this stunt. (I know, I know - assuming a 16 year old put a lot of thought into streaking is a tad naive on my part.)

Here's the gist:

ME: So, I'm curious. Why did you decide to streak from one friend's house to another?

BREEZY: Well, we were swimming.

ME: *Is this supposed to constitute an answer?* Okay, you were swimming. Were you wearing suits?

BREEZY: Yes *spoken in a tone that clearly said I was silly for even asking. My mistake.*

ME: Sooo, why did you streak to the other house?

BREEZY: We wanted ice cream.

ME: *checks over conversation to see if I'm missing something obvious - nope. Non-sequitor number 2.* You wanted ice cream?

BREEZY: Yes. And there was ice cream at this other guy's house.

ME: Which explains why you went but not why you went naked.

BREEZY: Ummmm

ME: You decided to take off your swim suits and run several blocks to someone else's house because there was ice cream?

BREEZY: Well, we had to dry.

ME: *feeling somewhat foolish for not realizing the severe towel shortage afflicting the Nashville area thus forcing young men to literally dry themselves in the wind* Did anyone see you?

BREEZY: Oh, yes.

ME: And you were fine with that?

BREEZY: I guess.

ME: I guess? I think I'd be pretty sure of that before I decided to prance around wearing only what God gave me.

BREEZY: Some people honked.

ME: Hmm. *thinks it highly likely the honking was more a reflexive spasm as drivers caught a flash of 8 strikingly white boys "flapping" along naked but wisely keeps this observation to myself.*

ME: So, where were your clothes?

BREEZY: I left them in my friend's car. But I kept my boxer shorts with me, just in case.

ME: Yes, I can see the advantage of facing a police officer - who's just seen everything you've got to offer - wearing nothing but boxers. You won't have your dignity back but maybe just a scrap is all you really need.

BREEZY: Like 4 of the guys are football players and they ran the whole way, uphill. I didn't think I was going to make it. I needed to stop and walk.

ME: Well, there's the rub, isn't it? You couldn't stop. If you're with the whole group, it's a prank. A stupid stunt. If you're by yourself, you are just a crazy naked person with a sizeable anti-psychotic prescription in your very near future.

BREEZY: Girls never streak.

ME: No. *of course we don't. We have better sense than to do anything where "flapping" is a requirement.*

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some more mental scrubbing to do.