The night Bea and I went out on a Wednesday.

This story is completely true, some names adjusted to their nicknames because that is how I would tell it in person.

It was the summer of 2007. Jeff and I had been living in our own apartment that was just outside of downtown for over a year. Close enough to walk downtown in less than 5 minutes, but technically a residential neighborhood. The apartment was an old house which had been split into seven apartments. Jeff and I shared a one bedroom on the 2nd floor on the East side. There was a big porch stretching across the front of the building and we would go out there to smoke or sit on the wide cement railing.

It was a Wednesday night around 7 or 8pm. Bea calls me out of the blue, ‘It’s Tony’s birthday, let’s go surprise him at work.”

“At Lucca?”

“No, he’s at Kick’s in Towanda. I’ll drive.”

“Ok!”

Bea picks me up and we drive the 20 minutes or so it takes to get to Towanda. Kick’s is a smallish place with the bar to your left against the wall. The ceilings are lower and they have about half a dozen tables on the floor. Tony was the only one there and he was standing behind the bar chatting with some regulars when we walked in. He smiled with surprise to see us and we bellied up to the bar for a drink.

Kick’s didn’t stay open very late and if I recall, closed between 9-10pm. Tony suggested we get closer to home and go have a drink together at Gil Street. We met him there and sat in the patio at the bar. I don’t remember the bartender on duty (Tony would remember), but he was a lifer who people liked well enough.

Tony took off home and Bea and I closed the bar. We went back to my place and sat on the cement railing facing each other leaned against the pillars. I went upstairs to get us a couple drinks, quietly because Jeff was asleep in the bedroom. At some point during the evening it had gently begun to rain, but just barely enough to be considered rain, more of a misting that didn’t stop. Bea and I sat covered by the porch roof, talking and watching the rain.

The building I lived in was one in from the corner. So I didn’t see him coming until he rounded the house next door. A guy about our age started walking down the sidewalk and passed Bea and I. He was almost as dark as the night and had his head down. Bea’s back was to him and didn’t see him until he was passed us-her eyes narrowing on the guy as he made his way 2 houses down and began to knock on the door. After a minute, no one answered. He turned back towards the street and started retracing his route rounding the house on the corner and out of sight.

Bea and I just stared at each other. A little speechless of what we saw. Within seconds, he rounded the corner again walking with more focus back to the house two doors down. He knocked again and still no one answered. Bea and I just looked at each other, a little shocked.

When no one answered his second attempt, he retraced his route and was out of sight again.

I gently shook my head at Bea, but it didn’t last long because the dark stranger was back, this time he had Bea and I in his sights. He stopped on the sidewalk below us and began to speak, ‘Excuse me ladies, can you tell me how to get to Monroe Street?”

I began to point to the South of us and said, ‘yeah, its about 4 blocks that way.’

“Thank you,” and he scurried off into the misty rain under the light of the street lamps.

Bea and I just look at each other our eyes wide at what we just saw because the entire time this was going on, this guy was completely naked.

“How were you able to talk to him?!?!” Bea said in surprise.

“I don’t know, I kinda felt bad for the guy. He looked like he had been caught in the wrong place with the wrong girl!”

I promise you, I scanned the papers for a week to make sure the cops didn’t pick up some naked black guy in downtown. I really wish I would have offered him a pair of Jeff’s shorts. Maybe next time.