Hell, at that point as long as we took Fritos, other interesting snacks, and something to drink, I’d go anywhere. The seven of us (three couples and another female) climbed into Cliff’s Ford Econoline van. I’m sure you know the type; tie-dyed curtains, pillows, and probably “Ten Years After” or "Crosby, Stills, and Nash, playing on the 8-track.
Instead of driving straight to the beach, we were surprised when Cliff jumped on the freeway. We asked him where he was going and he said he wanted us to go to his favorite beach, at Smuggler's Cove. A few of us knew that “Smuggler’s cove," was in the Portuguese Bend area of Rancho Palos Verdes. A few of us also knew that it was a "clothing optional" beach. Cliff always talked about how much he liked it there, so he was totally geeked and as happy as could be, that we were all going there.
Once we finally got there, Cliff parked the van on the street and we climbed down the trail to the beach. When we got close to the bottom, everybody in our group saw what kind of place it was. A couple of the girls were saying things like “oh, hell no!” and "don't expect me to be taking my clothes off!"
When we got to the end of the trail and got fairly close to the water, Cliff started ripping off his clothes and yelled, “last one in is a rotten egg!” Everybody except one of the girls started stripping down. But Cliff had a head start. He tore his clothes off as fast as he could and started racing for the water. He was far ahead of the rest of us. He wasn't alone though, he had company...
It was his tail! He had several sheets of toilet paper trailing out behind him, fluttering in the breeze from his butt crack!