Tank
“You Break ’em, We Fix ’em, this is Tank. How may I help you?” I said as I answered my cell phone for my small contractor’s business.
“Uh, Hi, this is Bill Patterson out at Willow Farms. I understand you do small to medium repairs on houses and buildings.”
“Yes, we do. It’s just me and my helper, so we can’t do anything big. What seems to be your problem?”
“One of our cabins flooded and there’s quite a bit of water damage. We’ve got fans going and such, but we’re gonna need some wallboard replaced, new flooring and carpeting. One of the cabinets is shot as well.”
“I see. That job’s probably too small for a regular contractor and that’s where we might be able to step up and help. Do you have any insurance to help you?”
“Yeah, money shouldn’t be a problem.”
“OK, here’s what I suggest. Pull up all the carpet and any flooring that you can. Unless it’s raining, keep the windows open. Keep the fans going twenty-four/seven and we’ll try to be out early next week. Monday. OK?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Here’s the address…”
Once he had given me the address, I texted Lucy at her job site to let her know she’d need to be available Monday to go out there with me.
On Monday we drove out to Willow Farms. Lucy rode shotgun and helped with the GPS and directions. We found it quite some distance from town and down a long, tree-lined dirt road. We came to a closed electric gate. Signs everywhere warned off trespassers and there was a small call box on the left side.
“I guess we gotta call in,” I muttered.
“Looks like it,” agreed Lucy.
A few seconds after ringing the buzzer a voice crackled in the speaker. “Membership number, please!”
“I, uh, we’re not members…”
“Then you need to just leave. This is a private property and no visitors are allowed.”
“Wait a damn second! I made an appointment with a Bill Patterson to look at some water damage at a cabin.”
“Oh, let me check with him. Just a sec.” A few minutes later the voice came back. “I’ll open the gate. Drive about two hundred yards to a small building on your left and wait there.”
“What a bitch,” I thought.
The gate opened and we pulled forward as instructed. At the building we waited in the truck until a tall fellow in his forties came out while tucking in his shirt.
“I’m Bill, you must be Tank.”
“Yeah, Hi,” I said as I shook Bill’s hand. “This is my assistant, Lucy.”
Lucy and Bill exchanged greetings before Bill asked me to follow him into the building. Lucy started to get out also before Bill shook his head and added, “Just Tank for right now, please,” to Lucy’s obvious dismay.
Once inside the building, Bill turned to me and asked, “Uh, look. Do you know this is a nudist resort?”
“I’d heard rumors, but I thought it was an old, eccentric guy who wanted privacy.”
“Well, actually, that’s partly true. Willow Farms was built by an old, eccentric guy who happened to be a nudist, only we call them naturists now. As he got older, he needed more people around him and insisted they be nude at all times. Those people eventually liked it so much that they convinced him to make a full naturist resort. He’s gone now, but the resort lives on.”
“OK, so Lucy and I just need to keep to ourselves, not stare and get the work done, right?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not so simple. Our bylaws require anyone beyond this delivery cabin has to be nude, no exceptions. That would include you…”
“Wow. Er, I don’t know what to say. I’m not too sure Lucy will be willing to do it but more importantly, when we’re working with saws and tools, we’ll need protective equipment, you know, chaps, gloves, things like that.”
“Since the repairs are all inside, we’d be fine if you wanted to get dressed inside for your work. But driving there and loading stuff into the cabin will need to be done nude. Think you can do it?”
“Uh, I dunno. I’ll need to talk with Lucy. I need her to help with this job and if she says ‘no,’ we’ll have to decline. You know, her being a woman and all.”
“Sure, I understand. Naturism isn’t for everybody.”
As I went back to the car, I kept thinking about it. Could I go nude? Would I pop a boner? Would Lucy agree? I figured she wouldn’t so we’d probably end up heading back into town.
Lucy
Once Tank got back to the truck, I laid into him. “What the fuck! Why couldn’t I come in?” I stormed. “He’s some old-fashioned geezer who doesn’t realize that women…”
“Not so fast, Lucy. He wanted to spare you some potential embarrassment. You see, if we go any further, we gotta strip.”
“Strip? What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“It’s a nudist camp, Lucy, and anyone going beyond this cabin has to be bare-assed nude!”
“You’re joking, right?” I asked.
“I wish I was. I told him it would be up to you. I need you to help with a job of this size and if you say no, we turn around right now.”
‘Wow. But we kinda need the work, don’t we?”
“Yeah, it’s been a little slow lately, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
“But if you don’t get more work, then I’d not get any wages or you could even let me go, right?”
“Well, yeah, but I want to make one thing perfectly clear: I don’t want to be accused of sexual harassment if we turn the job down and then you get laid off temporarily.”
“Tank, I’ve worked for you for, what, three years and I think you know me better than that. I’d never pull such a low stunt. You’re a good guy and a great boss.”
“Thanks. So, what are we gonna do?”
“Well, let’s drive up there and check out the work and then decide.”
“Gotta be nude.”
“Even in the truck?”
“That’s what he told me. You know, I could go up there and decide if the job is worth it and you’d stay here.”
I thought about it for a bit. He’d have to strip and I didn’t think it was fair. On the other hand, I would be super nervous about getting nude myself. I’m not exactly a prude, but I have a certain degree of modesty, particularly on the job. At a dance? Yeah, I’ll wear something sexy and revealing, but not on the job. And here I was potentially being asked to strip right in front of my boss.
Tank was a good guy. In spite of his name, he was not big and heavy at all. His nickname came from his days in the army when he was in a tank patrol or squadron or whatever they call them. He apparently was pretty good at driving those beasts and got the nickname from his friends. I liked him and at times, particularly when I was between boyfriends, I’d fantasize a tiny bit about him. But he was always professional and never had tried anything the least bit inappropriate with me.
I realized if we took the job, we’d both need to strip to get there. So why act bashful now? If it wasn’t a good job, we’d lose nothing but a bit of clothing for half an hour at the most, maybe.
So, I told him, “But if you say ‘yes,’ I’d have to get naked anyway, right? So, let’s strip and get it over with. A quick ride up there, ten minutes inside and then back. I think I could do that.”
“You sure?”
“Umm-hmm, I think I am.”