Kids, living in Vredehoek in my 20s and early 30s lent itself to all kinds of interesting encounters, not least those of the nude kind.
While my penchant for wandering about in my birthday suit in my apartment were well documented on Facebook, it’s the buff appearances of my neighbours that raised more than a few eyebrows.
Settle in and let me tell you about the Naked Guy …
A few months into my first co-habiting attempt with a work mate, a fire of biblical proportions tore through Devil’s Peak and the slopes of Table Mountain.
From around midnight, I watched the ever-growing flames from our apartment window with growing alarm before deciding to pack a bag (and grabbing only what was absolutely essential – which at the time was my Charmed DVD collection, but more about my skewed priorities later!); wake my flatmate and hightail it the hell out of Vredehoek.
Once in the stairwell of our complex, though, a sense of neighbourly duty overwhelmed us and we went about knocking on the doors. BIG mistake!
Brian was our nearly 60-year-old quirky fellow resident who had a bit of an Eeyore vibe going on. We usually kept interactions with him to a minimum because you could never be too sure whether he’d invite you into his apartment and that you would never see the light of day afterwards ever again.
At 1am in the morning, those kinds of concerns went out of the window and we had to knock a few times before Brian answered the door …
As in nothing, nada, not a stitch …oh dear gods, my eyes, MY EYES!
Picture a recently de- feathered chicken with a puff of white hair, illuminated in moonlight and you get the idea…
Sure, it was the middle of the night and we’d woken him, but couldn’t he at least have slipped on a dressing gown or something?!
We mumbled out a fire warning as quick as we could while averting our bleeding eyes to everywhere but at Brian and ran out of there like, well, a fire was chasing our butts.
For years afterwards, I avoided Brian every chance I got because he wouldn’t stop mentioning the naked incident!
I’d recently started training for the Old Mutual Two Oceans Fun Run and one of my favourite running routes was along Chelmsford Road towards Devil’s Peak.
With Kings of Leon’s Sex on Fire blaring in my ears, I was just about hitting my runners ‘high when time stopped, the sun shone down on me and there, in the middle of the tiny field at the end of my road, was a tall, dark and handsome stranger posing in the nude…
For a heartbeat of a second, I thanked all of the gods, old and new for finally, FINALLY answering my prayers and delivering an Adonis-looking baby daddy to me.
Only to hear the click of a camera and discover that actually, I’d stumbled upon a student modelling shoot and this day was not my lucky day …bloody hell!
I picked up my jaw and crushed heart from the ground and headed back out onto the road. The time for enjoying a naked guy would come soon enough …and boy, does your dad look well in the nude (oh, quit making those gagging noises, guys!) 😉