Standing On A Chair

Telling it like I see it…

Stories from the Chair: The Dinner Party – Part 3

I can’t remember if we said “What the Fuck?” back in 1971, but I can assure you that’s what I was thinking as Marcus and I stood frozen and wide-eyed in the middle of that sunken living room with a view, surrounded suddenly by a gaggle of balls, butts and boobs.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” I asked Marcus.

“Fuck no!”

“Dinner’s on,” someone yelled out over Sergio Mendes & Brazil 66.

And there we stood as all the naked people left the room and filed into the formal dining area a half-level up, off the expansive kitchen.

We had to decide.  Do we do this?  Or do we leave?

“Let’s do it,” I said.  I blame the pot and the alcohol of course.  I mean, would anyone in their right and sober mind take off their clothes at a party?

So Marcus and I got naked.  We tossed our clothes onto a wing-back chair nearby, took a deep breath, and followed the others to dinner.

I was overcome by the giggles.  It just seemed so hilarious all of a sudden.  I didn’t stop laughing until we were well into the main course, or I should say courses.  The long mahogany table was large enough to accommodate everyone.  Places were set with silver and crystal, with linen and lace napkins and gorgeous rose-bud china.  Clusters of tall vanilla candles made the center piece which ran the entire length of the table.

The spread, as I remember it, included a Rumaki appetizer and Caesar salad.  From there we ate rack of lamb, stuffed Cornish game hen with orange sauce, and Beef Wellington, if you can believe that.  There was a variety of vegetable casseroles, fresh-baked rolls, and five different desserts, including a German Chocolate cake made from scratch.  Red and white wines were scattered about, the empties immediately replaced by an endless supply of full bottles.

The surprising thing was, as dinner progressed, it was as if we had all forgotten we were naked.  The food was gourmet level, the wine divine, and everybody just felt so good.  There were fun conversations and lots of laughter.  I learned this was a long-time, close-knit group of people who hung out every weekend on the Bay in somebody’s 65-plus ft. sailing yacht.  I also learned that they regularly sailed while naked, which I remember thinking at the time was the most fantastic idea.

To top it all off, a bottle of Courvoisier and a silver tray of stemmed liqueur glasses appeared, and we all heartily hoisted yet more expensive alcohol, while shouting exuberant toasts to eternal friendship and more great dinner parties to come.

Then someone passed around two more trays, both shiny, polished silver.  On one tray, there were lots of large, round pills, which Marcus identified as prescription Quaaludes.  The second tray, about the size of a large platter, had all these little white powder lines on the bottom, which Marcus identified as cocaine, with a razor blade and a rolled up hundred-dollar bill.

Everybody downed a pill with their brandy, and each person snorted one line of cocaine into each nostril, dutifully passing it on to the next person.

That is, everybody but Marcus and me.

Here we were again.

Do we do this?  Or do we leave?

Stay tuned for Part 4


January 17, 2012 - Posted by | Nudity | , , , , , , , , ,


  1. Is this the dinner party your mom is always referring to??? 🙂

    Comment by Labenda | January 17, 2012 | Reply

  2. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Jill you’re killing me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    Comment by Peggy | January 17, 2012 | Reply

  3. Again, aren’t we lucky to have been in the right age group to safely recall those experiences most both younger and older alike would scoff at? Aren’t we lucky to have survived those years?

    Thanks for another walk down memory lane!

    Comment by geri wright | January 17, 2012 | Reply

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