Chapter 1

Jared Kelly My alarm clock woke me up with the news. President Johnson was campaigning for reelection in Illinois. Ordinarily I would be able to sleep for another five minutes, but I had a meeting with a potential sponsor before morning practice.

I walked into my coach’s office and was greeted by Coach Yamauchi and a stark naked woman I didn’t recognize.

“Hi, you must be Jared,” she introduced herself, “I’m Sarah.”

“Uh, nice to meet you. I guess you’re here to talk about a sponsorship?”

“Yes, actually. I represent the California Department of Nudist Registration...” That explained the outfit.

“As you know, California passed the Nudist Registration Act with the intention of funding the upcoming Olympics by allowing people to pay a 50 dollar annual fee for a registration that would require them to be naked at all times and grant them the right to engage in public sexual activity. Unfortunately, the number of registrants has been somewhat lower than our polling indicated and we’re still only halfway to our goal for the year. We’d like to offer you a free registration and a two million dollar sponsorship deal.”

“So I’d have to compete naked?”

“Yes, and under the Full Faith and Credit Clause of the Constitution you would be required to go naked anywhere in the United States for the next year, although most other states haven’t actually set up sensors.”

“I have to register the whole year? I can’t just go naked for the Olympics?”

“The Democrats in the legislature were concerned that allowing people to opt in and out of being nude would encourage exhibitionists to take advantage of the legislation to harass people, so they required an electronic tracking system to ensure that registered nudists remained naked, at least in public, for the full year.”

“Hmm ... that is a very large sponsorship.” I turned to Coach Yamauchi. “What do you think?”

“It’s certainly a good way to get more young people into swimming, but I want to see how this impacts your performance before we make any final decisions.”

We proceeded out to the pool deck and I ran through my usual morning practice without a suit. When I got out of the pool, Coach was smiling and looking at her stopwatch.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you!”

That settled the question, and a week later, I found myself in front of a gaggle of reporters in an office at Los Angeles City Hall.

The registrar didn’t seem too impressed.

“I’ll need your name and date of birth”

“Jared Kelly, May 15, 1997.”

She checked the date against my driver’s license. “You want to register as a nudist today?”

“Yes ma’am.” I heard the flashbulbs go off behind me as she pushed the paperwork across the desk.

“Sign here.”

Suddenly nervous, I filled in the paperwork and returned it to her.

“We take credit or check.”

Sarah handed the woman a check and she produced a needle.

“Hold out your forearm.”

She grabbed my arm and stuck the needle in. I winced and then turned around.

I took a deep breath. “I guess this is it.” Half blinded by the glare of the cameras, I undressed and bundled my clothes in my arms. The reporters followed me out to the parking lot, but dispersed as we walked to the Uber Sarah’d called. Once we were alone I finally noticed the sensation of the warm sun on my bare skin. “This actually feels pretty good,” I remarked.