New Year's Eve in 70s, yes it was me streaking

Morning

My morning starts at two p.m. I am an owl, up till four a.m. most nights. I write late at night, administer Jokers (When no one is around to disagree LOL!)

This morning I awoke to the black Mau at the foot of my bed. She belongs to Susan, and doesn't like me much, truth be told. So it's unusual she winds up on the foot of my bed. One of my Siamese (Yin or Yang, didn't get a good look and they're twin Seal points) had a lot to say about it, and nothing good. Bitch, bitch bitch!
New Year's Eves Past

I was seventeen the one year I recall so well. I was dating Jimmy Greeley. We weren't really in love, more like best friends. He was tall, blond, ice blue eyes. Very handsome, he was.

We went to a large party at someone's house in Crieve Hall, just across from where I lived. The house was a one story ranch style, and people were crammed into every room. We were all smoking pot and drinking (This was the 70's of course.)

Jimmy had an idea of what to do at midnight. Being accustomed to Jimmy's ideas, I heard this one out with some amount of dread and trepidation.

And sure enough. He wanted us to streak it. We would go into a bedroom, open the window, crawl out, leave our clothes in the car, crawl back in naked. And then run down the packed hall, into the living room (where the keg was,) into the kitchen (where the munchies were,) and out the kitchen door to the car (which was parked along the road. Too many cars in the long driveway.)

New Year's Eve in Nasvhille is cold. And I do mean COLD. I also underestimated the family dog, that they kept locked in a pantry off the kitchen because he wasn't very friendly to new people.

All went well at first. We stripped, carried the clothes to the car. By the time (freezing) we got back in the window, a couple was making love on the bed. We snuck past them and out the bedroom door, and it was time to run.

We lit out down the hall, packed with people who were screaming and laughing. One guy reached out to me and I knocked the beer right out of his hand. We continued into the living room, where most of the people were. More screams and laughter.

Into the kitchen, and this is where it all went wrong. I headed for what I thought was the door out.

It was the door to the pantry.

The nasty German Shephard came barreling out, snarling and growling. Right at me. I turned, leaped a table, and found the real door out. Jimmy found it ahead of me. I ran out, pursued by this growling, speeding mass of teeth. Snapping at my ass as I ran. I shut the door on him, he flew right through it.

I fled to the car, which Jimmy, in his wisdom, had locked. He let me in the passenger side, and I scooted over to the driver's side. He jumped on top of me and we slammed the door shut.

I started the car (one of my parent's huge white Lincolns,) and took off up Franklin Road, a main road in Nashville. We were halfway to my house by the time I realized that, stoned as monkeys, we were driving along stark naked.

As I was speeding from nerves, to my horror, a cop pulled us over. And there I sat, naked as a jaybird, with Jimmy trying to pull on his pants. My clothes were of course in the back seat of the huge Lincoln, too far away for me to reach.

Credit where credit's due, the policeman saw the humor in it. He allowed us to get dressed, and sent us on our way.

I was totally mortified. Another of Jimmy's ideas, gone badly wrong.

Could have been worse. Could have been in jail for indecent exposure.

From the pot, we were laughing hysterically as we pulled up in front of my parent's house. And New Year's Eve "73 was over.

Did any of you streak back then? I did again, but I'll save it for another blog entry.