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Rated: E · Fiction · Experience · #2209410
A stranger attempts to tell a policeman why he is nude.
En Vogue Streaker

          “Sir, may I ask why you’re standing in the middle of one-way street with nothing on?”
         “Are you talking to me?” The man asked, vigorously rubbing his arms against the cold. Attempting to generate warmth.
         “Yes, I’m talking to you. Where are you from?”
         “You won’t believe this, but I was just sitting on a private nudist beach here in France when a strong wind blew in off the sea. It picked up the chair in which I was sitting and here I am. My chair is over there.”
         “Do you expect me to believe that?”
         “To be fair, Sir. I said you wouldn’t believe me. And you don’t. So, can you help me get back where I belong? I’ve never been in New York City. But what everyone says is true. You’re rude,” he said, rubbing his arms briskly. And attempting to stop his teeth from chattering.
         “Have you succeeded in your efforts to generate warmth. It’s twenty degrees out here and the wind just makes it colder.”
         “Honestly, Officer, I wasn’t born yesterday and I’m not a fool. It was eighty degrees under clear skies when the wind started to blow.”
         “And I suppose you’re going to attempt to convince me that you just blew into New York City from parts unknown?”
         “Now, Sir, that would be folly. I came from France. For you see, I am not ignorant. My father lives in Florida. And where I’m from, Nudist Colonies are en vogue. Just ask me. Of course, this is America and alternate lifestyles are not welcome here. You see, I am an American?”
         “Would you like to come with me to the station?”
         “Yes, I’ll go with you. But only if you can guarantee safe passage to my home in Florida.”
         “You talk like I should want to help you get home.”
         “Sir if you were an alien standing nude in the cold, wouldn’t you want help? I’m nude and alone. All you have to do is call My father in Miami Beach, Florida. By the way, my name is Joe Ho. I’m very cold. I’m nude you know?”
         “What is your father’s name?”
         “Jackson Ho, Sir. He’s Japanese you know.”
         “Yeah, right. Do you expect me to believe that?”
         “Whether you believe me or whether you don’t is no consequence. Jackson Ho does indeed exist, and I am his son. I’m nude and cold. Besides, I don’t like standing in the middle of the street nude with everyone gawking at me. As you’ve so graciously reminded me, it’s cold out here. Will you help me out of this predicament I’m in?”
         “We can call your father if he truly does exist.”
         “Oh, he exists all right, you’ll see.”
         “Come on, let’s go to the station and call your father.”

468 words
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