Part 1: Rising to the Challenge
I was emceeing at the DC Improv for Greg Giraldo when Mr. Bob saw me perform. Mr. Bob thought I was the funniest comedian in the show. At least, that’s what he said in his email when he contacted me to perform at his nudist resort. He enjoyed himself immensely at the comedy club and wanted to bring that experience back to his nudist resort in West Virginia. After seeing me perform I guess he thought that a room full of naked people would really enjoy my filthy, vulgar, mildly racist comedy. After reading his email, I called him immediately. I was so excited by the idea of performing at a nudist colony. I mean where else can you tell jokes with your cock exposed, get paid for it and not get arrested? I sold Mr. Bob hook, line and sinker. I booked myself and my friend Justin Schlegel to perform on the show. We were to be paid $1,000 each and all we had to do was tell jokes for 45 mins with our wieners dangling out for everyone to stare at and judge. Sign me up!
Awkwardtown, here I come.
The date was November 17th, and I remember it like it was yesterday. Justin and I drove from Washington, DC to Paw Paw, West Virginia and arrived at the Avalon Nudist Resort around 4:00 pm. The entire drive up there we did nothing but speculate on what promised to be the weirdest/greatest night of our comedy careers. As we pulled onto the property I started to have a mild panic attack. The sudden realization smacked me in the face that in a matter of minutes I was going to shed my clothes and show 120 strangers my penis in a well-lit room. I started to chain smoke just to stop my hands from shaking. We parked the car, got our very unnecessary suitcases out and headed toward to lodge. Justin looked at me and said,
“We’re about to see an obnoxious amount of cock.”
As soon as we opened the door our eyes were assaulted by the some of the biggest, most stretch marked breasts I have ever seen in my life. Then immediately my eyes were drawn to her razor-burned vag. As it turned out, this lady was one of the “managers” of the resort and she was the very first impression that Justin and I had of the resort. This woman’s baby maker looked like a high school band geek’s face. It was awful and I could not stop staring at it – not a good first impression for either of us. She could not have been happier to see us. She gave us big hugs and we were absorbed into her gigantic jugs. I began to notice a handful of other nudies sitting around the room. These naked folks weren’t any better looking. I’d say that most of them were about 3 decades and 50 pounds past their prime. There was a 70-year-old lady sitting at a table and her coochie looked like Mr. Miyagi’s chin from “The Karate Kid” movies. It was just a sad, long grey tassel of hair framing a weather worn hoo-hoo. The staff came over to greet us too. Keep in mind we were in the lodge/restaurant area of the resort and the staff was setting up the buffet line. Yeah, dicks and vaginae (did you know that’s the plural for that?) were precariously close to my food, cutlery, and tablecloth. It was the least appetizing thing ever.
Mr. Bob finally showed up and was the gayest hippy in the world. I mean, all hippies are “gay,” but Mr. Bob was gayer than a tree full of parakeets. 5-Alarm, flamingly gay and one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. He couldn’t be naked since Mr. Bob was also the chef. If there is one thing we all know, it’s that exposed shlongs and hot grease DO NOT go together. However, he wore a child’s medium t-shirt (a smedium) and cut off Daisy Duke shorts. He gave Justin and me a quick tour and then showed us to our rooms. He told us that dinner would be served at 6:00 and that he would like for the show to start around 7:00. He told us to enjoy our free time and to feel free to hit up the bar or the indoor pool. He left us our room keys (on a bracelet, because of the lack of pockets) and Justin and I were left alone in our room. At that point we just stared at each other because we now had the awkward task of getting naked in front of each other. Justin went into the bathroom to defrock and I start getting naked. Justin walked out and the first thing he says is, “You got a real nice cock.” I returned the favor and said, “You got a real nice cock too, buddy.”
After you see one of your best friend’s weenies, you need a drink. So we headed off to the bar, but first we each made sure we “looked good”. And by that I mean we put a little wind in the sail; got a half-stock working. You don’t want to show a bunch of strangers a tiny pee-pee. You want to be proud of it. Kind of like the first day of school – you want to make a good impression. Plus, this was the first time I was publicly showing off my bait and tackle, and since I lacked the capability to airbrush myself this was the next best available option. So, we grabbed our towels and rolled out (You have to carry around a towel to sit on at all times, otherwise I can’t imagine the cleaning bill. Pubic hair and ass residue are not something you want adorning your furniture.). We got 5 feet out of our room and my penis raced to base of my spine, terrified out of his mind and stunned by the cool November breeze.