The Osage Nudist

…I think that might be me.

Here’s the background information:

- My apartment building is shaped like a backwards “E”. I drew you a picture for reference:

(click for a larger view)

As you can see, this places my apartment (on the bottom limb of the “E”) in very close proximity to the apartments next to me (on the middle limb of the “E”). Potentially, you can hear and see everything your neighbors say and do. And I can certainly hear a lot, from babies crying all night to toilets flushing in the morning.

- Everyone else has also realized the problems this proximity can create, and thus they have all invested in curtains. They keep these curtains closed at all times. This prevents me or anyone else from being able to see into my neighbors’ windows, and it also prevents my neighbors from being able to see out of their own windows and into mine.

- The “E”-ness of my apartment building, in addition to causing a close-quarters problem, also creates an air flow problem. The long front wall prevents any breeze from making its way down the narrow alleys that separate the “E” limbs. Thus, I keep my windows wide open for most of the year in an attempt to welcome any air that may successfully waft this way.

- Curtains, while effective at blocking the goings-on of the apartment from the wandering eye, also block potential small wafts of air.

- I have not invested in curtains for the reasons listed above.

- Finally, the only place I get cell phone service in my apartment (thank you, iPhone) is directly in front of my front window. This large window is also the only one that lets in a nice breeze. And, since I am on the second floor, it is also the furthest distance from any other apartment, leading me to believe that no one can see into it.

Here’s the situation (aka, “In My Defense”):

Despite the fact that I’m fairly certain no one can see into my windows, I am still cautious about what I put on display. I try not to walk around completely naked; usually, I’m at least wearing a bra. But I’ve had these itchy spots on my chest and stomach for the past few days, so I’ve been tending to forego the bra when at home.

I was in precisely this state of undress when I received a phone call from a friend last weekend. I took my phone, and my bralessness, to the front window so I wouldn’t lose service while talking. The thought that someone might catch a glimpse of my delicates certainly crossed my mind, but I figured that the combination of the distance to the houses across the street, the partially obscuring composition of my window, and my open laptop in front of me would surely hide my, um, “knockers” from view.

Apparently, I underestimated the effectiveness of these factors.

As I chatted away merrily, I noticed a gentleman on the porch across the street unlocking his bike. Very distinctly and deliberately, he looked up, made eye contact with me, waved, and shook his head as though to say “how could you think that I can’t see you?” Which, at that point, was a question to which I had no answer, because my view of this waving man across the street was so clear and unobscured that I could see his pupils boring into mine. I could see his “you’ve got to be kidding me” smirk. If he’d had a boner in his pants, I could have seen that too, but he was clearly more ashamed for me than turned on.

I think that fact more than anything was what made the situation so awkward: that he wasn’t enjoying what he was seeing. He just felt embarrassed for me.

As I slowly sank down to the floor and out of sight of the roaming eyes of West Philly, I tried to explain what had just happened to my friend on the phone without making it sound like I was an exhibitionist. I found I could not do it.

I began to realize that I’d been living in this apartment for nearly a year, and this was decidedly not the first time I’d been naked at my front window. The logical part of my brain (I don’t know where it had been before this) began to kick in, and I noticed the clarity with which I could see not just this man on this porch, but everyone else that happened to be out on their porches or walking down the sidewalk. I wondered how many others had caught a glimpse of my lady parts over the past year. I wondered if my neighbors talked to each other about me; if I may even be their main topic of conversation. “The Osage Nudist was at it again last night, did you see her?” “Of course I saw her. How could I miss her?” “I had to put a blindfold on my kid to keep him from looking at her.” “All right, now she’s corrupting our children. Somebody has to put a stop to this.”

Most of all, I wondered why I had been so opposed to curtains before now.

Now, I’ve taken to sitting at my front window with a shirt on for excessive amounts of time, hoping that some of the regular viewers that I undoubtedly have will see my clothedness and spread the word to the others. I don’t know if this kind of reputation is the sort of thing you can undo, though. At this point, I’m just waiting for my doorbell to ring.