The Naked Scavenger Hunt

I had sick friends. There's just no way around it. Sometimes I think maybe I'm being too hard on them and that we were all a little bizarre when we were younger. But then I remember stories like the one I'm about to tell you and I say to myself, "Nope. Guilty as charged."
 
It was near the end of our 7th grade school year and it was supposed to be a typical sleepover. I thought we’d set up camp in someone’s basement, maybe steal a few beers from the garage, and stay up all night talking about the girls we had a crush on, who was better at Street Fighter II, and why Batman Forever was going to be the worst movie of the summer.
 
But this one was different.


At this particular sleepover someone proposed a game of truth or dare. Yes I know, this is a game typically designed to be played in a co-ed environment but our version was a little different.  If you chose a dare and refused to do it, the other three guys got to beat on you for a solid minute. That doesn't sound like a lot but count out ten seconds. Go ahead. And imagine being positively pummeled six times longer than that span of time. It sucks. You make that mistake exactly once and then realize there's no dare worse than that.

I guess maybe I had a lot to hide or just valued my privacy because I chose dare. So the other three guys went to another corner of the basement to plot out what they were going to make me do. The conversation was taking waaay too long and I heard lots and lots of giggling. I got the feeling I had made the wrong choice.

So the guys came back and explained to me what my dare was. Basically, I was to strip naked and then go on some bizarre scavenger hunt around the house. They had made a list of objects I was supposed to bring back and what rooms I would find them in. Ridiculous? You bet. But not impossible when you take into consideration that the other people in the house (the parents and two sisters) were fast asleep. However, their rooms were on my list. Which meant Naked Chris had to sneak into them, search for a certain item, and get out without waking anybody up.

And if I failed to bring back any of the items on the list... you guessed it... a solid minute of ass kickery.

I spent a decent amount of time deliberating this. It was not an easy choice. Ultimately I found the courage to agree but on one condition. I had to receive some sort of prize for this, as it was no ordinary dare. One of the guys promised me his collection of Playboys. And let's face it, in junior high that's better than gold. Porn WAS currency and I was about to become the Secretary of Treasury.

So I made them all turn around and then I got undressed. I told them I was about to go upstairs but one of them asked how I was going to prove that I was actually naked if they weren’t allowed to look at me. So I grabbed a pillow, held it in front of my one-eyed wonder weasel, and let them have their visual confirmation. I walked upstairs backwards so they didn't see my badunkadunk and then threw the pillow back down. And so the adventure began...

I decided to start on the second floor for two reasons. 1) I wanted to get the whole sneaking into bedrooms thing done with and 2) it made more sense that if I was going to wind up with a pile of crap in my hands, to keep the load light until right before I returned to the basement.

So the parents room was first. Their door was open and I listened just outside it for a very long time. When I was positive they were sleeping I looked in. The list specified that I was to take the mother's pair of reading glasses which were supposed to be on the nightstand next to the bed. I couldn't see them from where I was, but I did see the nightstand. So I very carefully entered the room and realized my heart was absolutely pounding. I swore that I could hear it and I was afraid they would too. I also remember thinking that I should have gone to the bathroom before I started this trek because I could feel my bladder swelling.

I got next to the bed and realized that if the mother were to suddenly wake up she would be staring square at my yoohoo. I felt around the surface of the nightstand and panicked when I realized there were no glasses. I was going to have to search for them. As it turns out I wouldn't have to search for long because I very quickly saw that the mother was in fact wearing them. Not over her eyes. They were pushed up over her hair, resting on her head. She must have moved them up there before she went to sleep and forgot she had them on.

I don’t know why I decided to go for it. I don’t know why I didn’t just go back downstairs, receive my beating, and be done with it. But I guess I couldn’t have known then how much simpler everything would have turned out if I’d just left that damn room.

Instead, I carefully placed my thumb and index finger around the bridge of her glasses and gave it the faintest of tugs to see if she'd respond. She didn't. So I tugged a little harder. Then I tugged a little more. Then a little more. Finally I felt sweet release and quietly stepped out of the room with my first successful capture in hand.

The next room belonged to one of the sisters. She was three years older than us. But back then 16 felt light years ahead of where we were. This wasn't a girl. It was a woman. With boobs and shaved legs and the whole deal. And she was sleeping in her underwear. Okay, I don't know that for sure because she had the covers over her. But in my mind she was. And this did certain things to my thirteen year old brain. Certain things that caused that brain to send messages to other parts of my body. Parts of my body that were very, very exposed.

 "Just get the stuffed animal and get out..." I told myself. So I searched the room for this stuffed parrot I was supposed to grab (Polly want a boner?). It was on the dresser with a bunch of other assorted animals. I grabbed it and was on my way out when something occurred to me. Maybe I could peek under the covers?

Yeah, I know I know. Gross. I'm not proud of it. But I was thirteen. And at a point in time where he who controls the Playboys controls the lunch table, this was a very big opportunity.

So I walked back towards the bed and using my free hand I started to lift up the edge of the covers near her feet. As more of her legs came into view, she suddenly turned over, pulling the covers out of my hand in the process. I dropped the parrot which made a squeaking sound when it hit the ground. Terrified, I scooped it up and left.

The other sister was ten. Never mind how creepy it felt to be naked in a ten year old girl's room, but I also had to grab her Little Mermaid night light. But what I saw was not a conventional night light. It was an 8x10 light up poster type thing. And it was hanging right above the head board of her bed. No. Way. I was not climbing up onto this chick's bed and reaching for this thing for a long list of reasons. Not the least of which was I was still at full salute from visiting her sister. She'd tell her mom she had a dream this snake was trying to bite her face and that would be the end of it.

But when I turned around to leave I saw a glorious sight. There on the wall, right next to her hamper, a sea shell shaped night light with Ariel's face on it. Bingo.

My upstairs chores were done. I made my way back downstairs to collect what I needed from the kitchen. I set down the items I'd already gathered on the counter and started searching through the cabinets for a bottle of vinegar, just like the list specified. It was too dark to read the labels so I had to pull out bottles, unscrew them, and take a whiff. I finally found the vinegar and something about the scent drove my bladder crazy. I reminded myself I was almost done and went on my way. That's when I saw it...

I wondered where that light near the front door was coming from. Then it hit me: it was light from the upstairs hallway. And it most definitely had not been on before. "Joe?" The mother's voice called out. And since she said "Joe" and not "Naked Chris" I realized I might be in a bit of trouble if discovered. As she descended the stairs I searched for a hiding spot. The kitchen offered none. I went into the dining room/living room. She was off the stairs and in seconds she'd be in the kitchen. She heard me moving around and asked "What are you guys doing?". "Nothing ma'am," I should have replied, "just a naked scavenger hunt". I saw the kitchen light go on. And she saw the pile of goodies I left on the counter. I had about five seconds until I was caught.

I had two options. The first was to run upstairs and try and find a better spot to hide. But the hall light was now on and I couldn't risk someone else waking up and seeing me in the full glory of my birthday suit. So I went with my second option which was to hide behind the couch. The problem was the couch had a decorative shelf behind it with some lamps and other knick knacks on it. And the space between the two was too narrow for me to crawl through. It also meant that if I moved the couch out it would be obvious due to the gap between the couch and the shelf.

So I was fu-diddly-ucked.

I lept onto the couch, pulled the decorative rug off the back of it, and held it against my junk. The mother stepped into the room and I will never in all my life forget the expression that fell over her face. And it was completely warranted. I mean, there was a thirteen year old holding her very expensive decorative rug against his genitalia.

So she flipped. Big time. And for some unearthly reason I found this to be really hilarious. The combination of her anger, my embarrassment, and the absolute ridiculousness of what was happening just made me laugh my ass right off. And here's where I learned that I DEFINITELY should have gone to the bathroom before I started my journey.

Ladies and gentleman, I had to pee. And when I say I had to pee I mean this was going to be nothing short of a geyser. And since I was laughing so hard I knew there was a good chance that I wasn't going to be able to stop it. You know that feeling. It's on its way and there's nothing you can do about it.

So I just rode the wave. I exploded. And because i was holding the rug so close to that area, and because it was shooting out of me with such force, it was LOUD. And the volume of it made me laugh harder. Which made it rush out faster.

So let's review: she knows someone's been stealing things from the house because of the pile in the kitchen. She can safely assume that the perpetrator is the naked junior high student in her living room. And now, not only is he holding her expensive decorative rug against his johnson, he's also pissing all over it. So yeah... not a good night for mom.

Meanwhile, old faithful here is letting out the last drops of his fury and still laughing like a madman. My friends, upon hearing her screaming, come upstairs and get a good look at the atrocity I've just committed. One of them ran back downstairs to get my clothes and I got dressed in the bathroom after being instructed to leave the rug in the tub.

Surprisingly, the aftermath of this was nowhere near as terrible as I'd assumed it would be. At my friend's insistence, the father was told that the family's dog was the one who'd peed on the rug (even though it was outside all night and the whole scenario was completely implausible if you gave it more than five seconds worth of thought). Rather than looking like a budding serial killer who just snuck into people's rooms with his man-meat swinging around, it was made clear that I'd been put up to this. Sure, I was the idiot that had agreed to it - but at least I wasn't one of the sickos who'd dreamed it up in the first place.

I also begged that none of this be mentioned to my mom, who could not have arrived sooner to pick me up the following morning. Most surprising of all, however, was that this was hardly ever brought up again. At an age where all you do is find reasons to make fun of one another, I think these guys must have realized that this far transcended a normal embarrassing story. There were a few cracks made about it over the years, but always with nude-nudge-wink-wink attitude. It was always in whispers and none of it was ever meant to hurt my feelings.   

And even though I technically didn’t complete my quest, the guys unanimously agreed I still deserved the stack of Playboys.