My Stories: The Naked Celebrity (don’t worry, no pictures!)

My Stories: The Naked Celebrity (don’t worry, no pictures!)

So I’ve gotten a few questions about my mention of a naked celebrity sighting. No, I wasn’t speaking metaphorically, about a naked soul or anything. I meant naked naked.

When my lovely friend Todd turned 30, he picked the people he wanted to be with and gathered us all together in Key West, Florida. I had never been there before and absolutely loved it. Especially in November, and during a cold spell here in Atlanta. I remember that I had to scrape ice off my windshield the morning I flew out. That night, I was sitting in Miami enjoying warm breezes. Yes, please.

Todd’s motley crew consisted of about four men and four women. One evening at sunset we were sitting out on a pier at a restaurant/bar. Our waitress told us that Cuba Gooding Jr. was staying on the top floor of the hotel that was above or just next to the restaurant. This was only a few years after Jerry Maguire, so naturally, being the uber-cool folks that we were, we were constantly looking up to the top floor balcony.

We were there for a while, and it’s important to the story to understand that some among us were imbibing more than others. Eventually, a man and a woman came out on the balcony in some variations of robes/towels, and seemed to be interested in just enjoying the view. They were four or five floors up, likely assuming that there were no gawking celebrity-stalkers below.

After a while, just as we were leaving, it happened. Cuba himself came out in the balcony, also in a towel.

As we walked away, two of the girls with us called up, “Show us the money!”

And he did.

Since we were separated by many floors, the details were spared me, but I remember shrieking with laughter. One of the many moments in my life at which I marvel – not because it was a life-changing event (!), but rather because God has allowed me to have a most interesting story.

People think that girls like me are predictable. I grew up in a Christian home, went to public schools during a somewhat innocent era, became a teacher and later a missionary, and waited (yes, waited) a while before the right great guy came along and I became a wife and mother. Boring!

I love to keep these little stories in my pocket to pull out from time to time. I love to throw back my head and laugh, to get to say to a new friend, “Oh, I haven’t told you about when I got punched in a train station?” To, when playing “Two truths a lie,” write “I have been taken to jail once,” and when that’s revealed as my lie, say, “No, I’ve been taken to jail twice.” (OK, so now I’ve ruined my best line with that game…)

I’m not saying that God in heaven is happily orchestrating celebrity nakedness, trips to jail, or getting punched just so that I can have good stories. But I’m grateful that adventures like these are not unheard-of in the life of a woman who counts him as a friend.

Melissa sig

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