Naked and NOT Afraid (fiction)

This was a beautiful Saturday in June. The sun was radiating the perfect amount of heat; the breeze made every wavy long hair flow like Queen Bey's. If anyone was still depressed on a day like this, the weather was not to blame.

Chris took a stroll in Coronation Park. This would be his last stop before heading home. He knew too well why he was under the weather. He crossed the border to Toronto Canada to attend a conference that promised to be "inspirational" and "uplifting". Speakers shared their stories about overcoming depression, addiction and abusive relationships. Surely, their messages were powerful to some, but it didn't do much for Chris. He felt like no one could relate to what he was going through. His situation was rather, unique.

Chris had always been a fat kid growing up, but it never bothered him. He was fat in a proportional and adorable way. He really enjoyed eating, he was part of an exclusive foodie group that travels the continent searching for the most unusual cuisine. He was extremely popular, everyone thought that he had a wicked sense of humor. When he smiled, he had two deep dimples that girls like to poke playfully. His grandpa happened to be a rich man with "all the money in the world", bandits are well aware that fat people are hard to kidnap. He was so happy and proud being plus-sized, he could make a career by motivating others to love who they are and stay true to themselves. Who knows, he might stir up a revolution, become an inspiration, a sensation, an icon, a legend. . . But, everything changed about a year ago when his doctor gave him the ultimatum to lose weight. He had a fatty liver and he was borderline diabetic. At first, he was excited about the idea of a physical transformation. He was turning 28, perhaps it was time to let his "cuteness" go. In just eight months, he lost about 100 pounds with healthy diet and exercise. He was impressed by his own will power. But recently, he realized that he had become increasingly unhappy about his new body. First of all, he was still a fat person at heart. Whenever someone complimented him on his new look, he wasn't used to it. He thought that people were just being nice, and giving him credits for such "amazing" accomplishment. Secondly, he got kicked out of the foodie group since one of the membership criteria was to have a Body Mass Index of at least 28. Because he was on a lean diet for so long, many of his favorite food became too greasy and too meaty to him. His popularity also dropped when he made a few fat jokes on someone else's expense, it was funny before, but now he was accused of being fat shaming. His signature smile also degraded as his dimples became less remarkable. His new resting face was described as “mean” and “unapproachable”. The only seemingly positive thing was the unprecedented attention he received when he hit the club. But he never got to the point of leaving the club with someone, because he was insecure about what was hidden inside his garment. He hated his naked body, all the loosen skin, wrinkles, blemishes and imperfections. What was worse than a pair of ample man boobs was a pair of saggy man boobs. He never really cared about how he looked when he was fat, but now, he spends way too much time in front of the mirror, loathing what he sees. He really missed his Jonah-Hill days, that is, before Jonah Hill lost weight and is no longer Jonah Hill...

It was time to head back home. Chris walked toward the parking lot. All of the sudden, he heard a big commotion from the other side of the park. People were screaming, laughing and playing loud music. Chris went over and was dumbfounded when he saw a large group of naked cyclists congregated under the large Canadian flag. Some were doing body painting, some were decorating their bikes, others were taking group selfies, and the rest were just dancing and partying. There was a crowd of fully-clothed spectators engulfing them, having the best time ever. But honestly, shame on the two-dozen bikers who were overdressed: some might not dare to bare, but a handful of creepy-looking guys were feasting on the few girls with the perkiest figure. They were like wolves wearing sheep skins, sneaking into a flock of sheep that have just been thoroughly trimmed.

“Hey man, what is this about?" He asked a spectator standing closest to him.

“It's World Naked Bike Day, raising awareness about bike riding and other means of green transportation."

“Oh yes, hence the slogan on that man's back ‘less gas, more ass'."

“Dude, some of them should not be allowed to do this. In fact, 60 percent of them should keep it to themselves, for the sake of the public." The man chuckled. Chris totally agreed. Everywhere he looked, he saw sags and droops. Those were not your typical parents and grandparents. Compared to them, Chris's body is a wonderland. . . hmmmm. . . oh, hmmmm. . . ha! All of the sudden, Chris was intrigued by this crazy idea of joining the bikers. It could be exactly what he needs to overcome his problem. Really? Do I have the guts to pull it off? Why not? No body knows him in this city. And one thing he was grateful for was the fact that not every body part had been downsized. Oh, F*ck it, I am gonna do it! 

Chris went up to a man who looked like he was one of the leaders. “Can anyone join this? Do I have to register or something?"

“Of course, anyone can join. You don't even have to be an environmentalist. In fact, I drive a Hummer."

“Where are we heading to?"

“All the hot spots in downtown area, basically where the people are. There is a Bikeshare station over there, just take one of the Bixi bikes."

Chris was all pumped. He paid $12 and purchased a 24-hour bike pass. After entering the code, he took out the last bike from the rack. He hesitated for a good ten seconds, before stripping down to his birthday suit. Since he had no pockets on him, he locked all of his belongings in his car and tied his car key to his wrist. He Purelled his bike saddle before taking a seat. After a few adjustment, he finally found a comfortable position.

“ARE WE READY???!!!"

“YES!!!" Everyone honked at once and took the party to the heart of the city. Right away, Chris knew his boldness was rewarded. This nude army sent shock waves across the city. This wall of flesh was too overwhelming that people needed a moment to process. Eyes were popping, jaws were dropping, kids screaming, adults laughing, democrats cheering, conservatives judging. . . it was insane! Chris had not felt this happy and free for almost a year. It was like getting away with a crime. . .

An hour later, the fun still had not died down. But all of the sudden, Chris felt a jolt that almost knocked him off his bike. UH-OH, this is not good, not good. He got off to investigate and found that two of the spokes in his rear wheel had come off. He had a major equipment malfunction! This is bad, really bad, like, historically bad! He looked to his fellow bikers for help, but they just gave him a grim and moved on without even slowing down. Before long, everyone had passed by and he became the only nudist in the middle of the street. This corner of the city went silent. It dawned on him that his previous so-called “problem” was nothing compared to the here and now.

Christopher, breath, breath, think! don't panic, think! There must be another Bikeshare station nearby that he can switch bike. Chris lifted the rear wheel off the ground and carried his broken bike forward. He dared not confronting the looks of bystanders, he dared not tune into the laughter and honking. He tried to conquer his fear of “public presentation” by imagining everybody naked in the audience. He tried to “own it” by not displaying any panicky in his eyes. One thing for sure, no one was looking at his eyes. This was literally the worst day EVER!

After 5 minutes of brutality, he finally saw a Bikeshare station. There were plenty of bikes in the rack. Chris felt like he was stranded on an island for years and suddenly a rescue boat appeared on the horizon. He picked up his speed and reached the station in one breathe. Panting like a dog, he forcefully yanked the broken bike into its rack. After it was secured and locked, he let out a long and deep sigh. He went to the next bike. . . but. . . but. . . he couldn’t remember the 6-digit code that he purchased. He only had a two-second glance at the code, it never entered his memory! NO, NO, No, can this day get any worse?! Think Christopher, think, you dumbass!

When he had the stupid bike, at least 50 percent of the people understood the context, but without the bike, no one gets it! He was just a lunatic wandering on the street. And speaking about wandering on the street, he had no idea where he was and how to get back to Coronation Park, he got no phone, no money, no ID and literally nothing . . . endless sessions of psychotherapy were awaiting in his immediate future.

“Hey buddy, how’s hanging?” A powerful and joyful voice broke his misery. Chris turned around and saw a nudist in his golden years. His bike was the type of bike where the rider is reclining and paddling with their legs in an upward rotation. Basically, the same position when a woman is in labor. He looked like a Santa Claus on his sled, taking fat and proud to another league.

“My bike is broken!” Chris cried out loud.

“It’s okay son, calm down. Let me help.” He got out of his bike. This was Christmas in June for Chris. “We should get you another bike.”

He turned to the crowd that congregated around them, “Does anyone here have a Bixi bike membership? Can we borrow it? It will be a quick ride. Anyone?” He was totally comfortable in his own skin; it actually made people turned away in embarrassment. Soon, a lady pulled out a Bixi key from her purse and unlocked one of the bikes. . .

On the way back to the park, the two were riding side by side. Chris was dead silent. He was traumatized beyond repair.

“Are you alright son?” The man asked.

“No. . .”

“Well, that’s not the spirit of a Nudist. Why do you think I was so behind everyone? I didn’t wanna share the glory! Ha-ha-ha!”

“I am not a Nudist. I am not an Environmentalist. I am just a loser.”

“Oh? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. . .”Chris paused, “I hate myself, more specifically, I hate my body. I just lost a lot of weight and for some reason, I am not happy, I don’t even know why.”

“You hate your body? What is it to hate? Son, I am a life-long Nudist, I have seen it all. Let me tell you, you are in the top 30 percentile!”

“Really?”

“Yes! How would you rate yourself in relation to everyone who is doing this today?”

“I would say 6.”
“Oh, you are so modest. You are a solid 8! In fact, you are stealing my thunder right now!”He continued, “The people in this event are a great representation of the general population. I would say you are well above average.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, I am. And besides, your eyes are beautiful.”

“Thank you! Really, thank you!”

Chris felt a lot better, not because he really believes he is an 8, but after this experience, he didn’t think it matters anymore. He realized that he could still enjoy life and do crazy things without looking fabulous; besides, he’s not even ugly or short or fat, what was he complaining about all along?

Chris finally crossed the finish line and couldn’t wait to go home. As he went back to his car and checked on his phone, his phone was flooded by missed calls and text messages. People were texting him and told him that he was trending on every social media platform. His mom was yelling at him with all letters in caps. He thought for two seconds, and replied to his best friend, “Can you get me an agent?”