Nothing Nude Under the Sun

(Episode two of Below the Belt is here. Plots thicken. Foes encroach. Chinese food is eaten. -JMG)

Story Sent in by Josh:

I'm a photographer. I take photos of people. With their clothes on. Engagements, weddings, children, I do it all. Before our first date, Cheryl was really curious about it and she asked me all sorts of questions. She was a (self-proclaimed) amateur photographer, herself. I figured she was just indulging a pet passion. And I was happy to help her out.

On our date at a coffee shop, she asked me a few quick questions about my photography experience and then said, "You're not one of those sleazy guys who has women pose nude, are you?"

"No," I said.

Cheryl stared at me like I had said, "Yes." She asked, "What? What?"

I said, "No. I've never done anything like that. I keep it professional."

Cheryl gave me that stare again. She stood up with her drink and for a moment I thought she was going to splash it in my face. What did I say? She said, "Date over, asshoIe," and left me sitting there, completely floored.

I followed her outside and asked her what went wrong. I again iterated that I've never done a sleazy nude photo session with anyone. I really, really hadn't.

She said, "You're disgusting. I should've known. And you call yourself a photographer? Stay away from me!" This time when she took off, I let her go.

Less than a week afterward, I received an email in my photography business email account. It was from someone named "Donna" who wanted to pay me to do a nude photo shoot. Thing was, it was sent from Cheryl's email address. I wrote back, "Cheryl, what the hell is wrong with you?" There was no response. Thankfully.


  1. Raised catholic. Wants to try something risque. Automatically feels guilty and ashamed of it. Lashes out and projects her frustrations on others. Typical product of prissy stuck-on-Victorian-ideals-that-don't-work Americans. Sad, really.


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