A delayed New Year’s resolution: Throughout 2018, I will not dine naked.
In public, that is.
If for some bizarre reason I was smitten with the urge to belly up to the kitchen table in my altogether, only my wife would see. Or maybe not. Her eyes surely would be clouded by tears of laughter.
But if you’re reading these words and thinking, “Wow! Dining in the nude sounds like great fun!” fear not. There are options.
None in Knoxville that I’m aware of. But if you travel to New York or London (England, not Kentucky) or Paris (France, not Tennessee), opportunities to nosh nude abound.
There are a number of restaurants in the Big Apple that offer “clothing optional dinners.” Once or twice a month, these places close their doors to all but the unclad.
Then there’s The Bunyadi in London. And The O’Naturel in Paris. Neither establishment has a dress code. Mainly because nobody’s dressed.
After checking in at the front desk, patrons are escorted to a changing room to remove their cotton, wool and silk shackles of civilization. After that, they enter the main dining hall where everyone else has bared their body.
These businesses are quick to point out that mobile phones and cameras aren’t permitted. Nor is leering or exhibiting any type of sexual behavior. Their sole purpose is to provide nudists the opportunity to enjoy a meal with their fellow naturists.
I read several news reports about this practice, and almost to the person, participants talked about how comfortable, confident and relaxed they felt.
Having never been in such a setting (nightmares don’t count), I can’t predict what I would be feeling. But I can guarantee it wouldn’t be comfort or relaxation, especially if a busy waiter nearby was ferrying bowls of hot soup.
Nonetheless, more power to those who hit the buffet line in the buff. If they and all the other customers are OK with the plan, have at it.
Just don’t expect me to follow suit, particularly of the birthday variety.
Sorry, but there’s too much Southern Appalachian modesty woven into my DNA to peel and eat — and I ain’t talkin’ shrimp.
Another thing: Lurid thoughts to the contrary, I can vouch that 99.99 percent of human bodies, at least those of the guy persuasion, are anything but attractive. Trust your Uncle Jock Strap in this regard. When you’re the son of a phys ed teacher and have participated in sports all your life, the men’s locker room is your second home.
Still, I do see one advantage to, uh, “exposed eating.” When the bill arrives and you start patting around for your wallet, you can tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth by saying, “Gosh, I must’ve left it somewhere.”
Sam Venable’s column appears Sunday and Tuesday. Contact him at sam.venable@outlook.com.