Night Streaker - The Dare Story

I remember a time--roughly ten years ago--when I made the mistake of playing a game of Truth or Dare with my younger brother and two of our neighborhood friends. We were kids at the time, and suffered from boredom frequently.

In turn, we were prone to entertaining ourselves using unconventional means. Such means commonly included but wasn't limited to: rock fights, mud wrestling, urinating on fire, and playing dodgeball using random pieces of vegetation. So when my brother came up with the idea of playing Truth or Dare, no one declined.

The game started off innocently enough, with each person opting for Truth rather than Dare out of fear of being given some horrendous task to complete. Eventually--without anyone being brave enough to go for Dare--the game began to grow stale. As a remedy, I decided to take a risk, choosing to take a dare for my turn.

Surprised by my decision, the others thought long and hard about the dare they wanted to provide me. After all, the chances were strong that it'd be the lone opportunity to make a fool of somebody.

After talking amongst themselves for ten or fifteen minutes, a challenge was posed to me. I was to run a full lap around the neighborhood completely nude.

It wasn't original, but it was sufficiently embarrassing for the one doing the running. Fortunately for me, we were playing the game late in the evening, meaning the sun had set an hour or so earlier. Though nude, I had the mask of night to protect me.
I considered this, agreed to the terms, and promptly removed my clothes for the run.

At first, everything proceeded without a hitch. I ran quickly, being extra careful to stay quiet and out of sight of anyone who may have been outside at the time.

As it turned out, I didn't encounter a single soul during my marathon. I completed the full lap and returned to the starting spot victorious, eager to dress myself and cover my nudity.

Unfortunately, that was where things became complicated. My clothing was gone. My clothing was gone, my brother was gone, and our friends were gone. This had been their plan all along. How typical. I hated myself for falling for such an obvious trick; however, I didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it for too long.

I was naked and vulnerable. I needed to act quickly to ensure that I wouldn't be discovered in my current state. Rather than search for the cowards who disappeared with my clothing, I decided a stealthy entering to my house would be the wisest course of action. I'd slip in undetected, make it to my bedroom, and find replacement clothes.

The plan was excellent with high rates of success, so I put it into action. I slipped into the house to find all the lights on, but with no one around. Pleased, I made a break for the downstairs bathroom for a checkpoint. I reached it without a problem, leaving only a trip up the stairs remaining.

Once I accomplished that, I'd be home free. Feeling encouraged, I sprinted up the stairs, fixed on my goal and sure I'd attain it.

But then - disaster.

At the top of my stairs, my dad--at the worst possible time--came walking right out his bedroom door. I was caught in the middle of nowhere.

Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. What resulted was the most awkward twenty seconds of my life.

Imagine a boy of sixteen, tall and skinny, standing naked a mere foot away from his old-school, conservative father.

He only stared at me. Nothing more.

Eventually, he coolly walked past me without saying a word. We've never spoken of it. It proved to be an interesting game of Truth or Dare. I'll certainly never forget it.