That man is naked

I was reading a post on one of the blogs where I like to lurk while I drink my morning coffee. She noted that, when the weather warms a bit and men start going shirtless, her 3-and-a-half-year-old points and shouts, "Look, that man is naked!"

Reminded me of a horrifying incident from yesterday.

The taller building in this photo is the small hotel across the street from our office. We are on the fourth floor of our building. The BreastCare unit is on the side of the office facing the hotel. And Heather--Addie's mom--works in BreastCare. So I walked over to Heather's office to drop off Addie's new outfit. I'm strolling down the aisles of the cuberhood, minding my own business. The main aisle leading to BreastCare deadends at a window. And perfectly framed in that space is a male hotel guest, talking on his phone and looking out at the street below. Naked. Rubbing his hairy belly.

I screamed. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it.

Yes, I've seen a naked man before. (I'm sure I have...it's been so long, the memory is a bit dim.) But this guy was not my naked man. Or a movie star. (For sure.) And, unbeknownst to him, he was in my freakin office!

The windows of the hotel are deeply tinted. I can only surmise that the hotel guest thought it was one-way glass. Thank God the window sill came up nearly to his waist.

When I screamed, the BreastCare staff members looked up and then went, "Oh, yeah. Happens all the time. That's why we keep our blinds closed."

If I worked on that side of the building, I would have to make myself a poster on a stick and keep it under my desk. And whenever the occasion arose, I would hold it up in the window: "We can see you."

Today, I'm really enjoying my river view.