Excerpt: An Unusual Weekend

You know things aren’t going well when you realise just how naked you are. It’s a little known fact that beyond simple physical stages of nakedness (semi-naked, half naked, naked except for the semi-used condom, socks or underwear or headband or wrist watch, ecetera), there are also psychological stages of nakedness. This is why when you were found naked in the bed of your girlfriend in twelfth grade by her parents, you were profoundly more naked than you were the day before in the guys' change room after the game. This is a fact that most people know, but very few express in so many words. In this precise moment, though, I don't think I've ever been quite so naked. The moment when your hard-assed boss finds you reclining between 300-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets with his very beautiful, very naked blonde-haired new bride happened to coincide just exactly with the moment I realized that I probably shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning. Or rather, I suppose, in this case, I should have gotten out of this bed a lot sooner, this morning.