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When
was
the
last
time
I
ran
around
naked in a thunderstorm? For sure there
was that time in 1990, deep in South
Carolina interior, when a huge squall
brought intense relief after a 20-mile hike
in 100-degree heat and we showered with
Dr. Bronner's in slashing horizontal downpour
which ceased as quickly as it'd started. Then
there must have been a couple of times or
more at the country club where I worked 10
summers and we ran wild after hours. But this
might have been the first time I did it in a city,
just hours after arriving in Chicago by craigslist
rideshare (2,000 miles of
good conversation). We
pulled in just at the
start of what would
be a 7-inch rainfall.
After drinks with Lori
and Dan I peeled off
drenched duds and
started jumping in
puddles. 1 a.m. on a
quiet street but of course
someone had to walk by.
I said, "Excuse me," and
he smiled: "No worries."
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