"I Gardner, Sweetie, I, there, there's no way," Shirley protested, even clutching her top and her shorts protectively.
"Shirley, it's fine," he assured her. "But come on. It's too hot to sit in this tent; you'll burn up."
"Uh? And when did I become 'Shirley,' young man?" Shirley demanded.
"Hmm? July, nineteen ninety one, I believe," Gardner smiled. "I mean, I wasn't there but I'm pretty sure that's what they called you."
"You are not funny," she giggled, stepping cautiously out of the tent.
Everywhere they looked, there were nude bodies. Some bodies were beautiful. Some were average. There were some bodies that were bloated, pasty, splotchy, hairy. There were also a few people that could not, or would not bare it all.
"Uh, and when, when did you shave you're um, you're um..." Shirley
