Spring Break Story #2

I have never been to Norway and I don’t know if I want to go after this spring break incident. We had a male guest staying in our beachfront hotel a few years ago. I am not an expert on Norwegian nerds, but my guess is that he was the king. He was about 60lbs overweight, light red curly hair that resembled that of Napoleon Dynamite, and skin that was so pale that he was the same color at the SPF 1000 cream he slathered on in the morning.
I arrived at work at my normal 8:00am, or there abouts, greeted by throngs of bikini clad college girls all eating breakfast and cackling about the previous night, guys, or their tan/burn. I don’t remember if there were any guys eating breakfast…sorry. About an hour or so after I made it to my office, I received a call from one of our guests in her room on the 5th floor. The hotel was 6 stories high and looked right out over the beach and the Gulf of Mexico. She said she wanted to report a man on the beach. “A man?” Well, duh. Then she clarified that the man was naked. “A naked man?” Oh, well that’s different…and probably not good. She must have had binoculars since her description was very accurate. As much as I am a proponent of nude beaches in America, the law says you got to keep your hoohahs and your no-no parts covered up.
So, I slowly stood up from my desk thinking about why there might be naked guy on our beach. Maybe he’s still drunk from the night before. Our lounge, The Swizzle Stick, was open until 4am and he could have gotten toasted and walked out to the beach and passed out. Maybe he and his girlfriend had been having fun and she left him there. I don’t know. Homeless guy? Hmmmmm. Nope. You guessed it. The pasty skinned Nordic man was bare-assed nudified on the beach. I walked up to him and asked him if he was ok. In a thick Norwegian accent he said he was and asked me if there was a problem. Being as tactful and diplomatic as I could, I let him know that he was on a typical US uptight beach and he needed to cover his Norwegian fish hook. He was very understanding, grabbed his towel off the sand and proceeded back into the hotel. I thought he understood what I was telling him, but when he grabbed his towel, he failed to wrap it around him. So, here is this guy walking on the beach and back into the hotel in all his glory resembling the full moon from my angle. Before I could catch up to Lars the Short, he was already in the door and strutting through the breakfast area where the throng continued to eat and talk. Suddenly, there was a deafening silence, then sudden giggling and pointing…reminiscent of my adolescence. I watched in disbelief as he got into the elevator and went up to his room. I hoped.