Chapter 4: New Reality

As I left the office, my gaze drifted to the wall clock, noting that it was nearly 8 am. A twinge of concern pricked me as I realized I still had a solid hour of commuting ahead of me, with the unpredictable nature of traffic looming over my journey. I quickly leaned in to plant a kiss on my daughter’s cheek, whispering words of encouragement and love before hurrying out of the school building and towards my workplace.

Once settled in my car, I dialed my office number and informed Heather of my delay, explaining, “I had a meeting at my kid’s school, but I’ll be at the office before ten.” With that task complete, I reached out to Keith, providing him with a concise summary of the principal’s discussion, concluding with, “We’ll discuss the meeting in more detail tonight when I get home.”

Navigating through the school parking lot, I merged onto the freeway, joining the stream of morning commuters. As I settled into the traffic, my mind drifted back to the meeting with the principal. I couldn’t help but marvel at how composed Bailey and Zach appeared throughout the entire conversation. If it were me in their place (or rather, their bare feet), I’d likely be a bundle of nerves, grappling with the impending reality of being prohibited from wearing clothes anywhere on campus following the meeting.

The calm demeanor exhibited by Bailey and Zach in the face of the penalties for wearing clothes was indeed surprising. Despite the potential consequences, they remained composed, showing no outward signs of distress. In stark contrast, I couldn’t help but imagine myself bolting out of that room if I were in their shoes.

Yet, what truly baffled me were the non-removable bands encircling their wrists and ankles. It seemed almost surreal as if the school was branding them with these bands, permanently marking them in some way. The notion left me incredulous, struggling to comprehend the extent to which the school was enforcing its policies.

However, the most bewildering aspect of it all was Bailey and Zach’s apparent enthusiasm about receiving these bands. Their expressions betrayed a sense of excitement, as if they viewed the bands not as symbols of restriction, but rather as badges of honor. It was a perspective I couldn’t quite wrap my head around, adding another layer of complexity to an already perplexing situation.

Navigating through the streets, I eventually veered off the freeway and made my way toward the parking garage. As I stepped into the elevator, my eyes fell upon my friend Annette, who still sported the same (non-) outfit she had worn during the meeting. Curiosity piqued, I couldn’t resist inquiring, “So, how did your weekend go?” Since she took off the last few days of the week.

Annette recounted her last few days of the week and weekend with a mixture of resignation and frustration. She described encountering difficulty at the daycare center, where she faced resistance from the staff before finally being allowed to see her youngest child under the escort of the director. However, her experience at the other center was smoother. Despite the challenges, she spent the following half-hour patiently explaining to her young ones the reasons behind her attire, attempting to normalize the situation for them.

Reflecting on her first night, Annette acknowledged that it hadn’t unfolded as excitingly as she had hoped. In turn, she turned the question to me, inquiring about me.

Annette’s reaction was a symphony of disbelief and astonishment, played out in the fleeting moments within the elevator. As I disclosed the seismic shift in my family dynamic, her features contorted in a mixture of shock and incredulity. Her eyes widened, betraying a sense of disbelief, while her mouth slightly agape seemed to struggle for words.

The weight of my revelation hung heavily in the air, palpable in the silence that followed. Before the elevator could reach our designated floor, Annette managed to compose herself enough to respond, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency, “You have to tell me everything at lunch. Wow, I never expected that.”

Each word she uttered seemed to punctuate the magnitude of the situation. It was as if the enormity of the news had caught her completely off guard, leaving her grappling for understanding. As the elevator doors slid open, revealing the corridor beyond, we exchanged a glance, both aware that our conversation was far from over.

With a final nod of acknowledgment, we parted ways, each heading towards our respective offices. But the weight of the conversation lingered, casting a shadow over the mundane tasks that awaited us. As Annette bid me farewell with a casual “See you at lunch,” it was evident that the bombshell I had dropped would be the focal point of our upcoming discussion, dissected and analyzed over our midday meal with meticulous detail.

With a nod of acknowledgment, I reciprocated Annette’s well wishes with a simple “Have a great morning,” before making my way towards my department and my office.

Upon entering the office, I immediately noticed June hovering near the bulletin board, engrossed in pinning something up. Curiosity piqued, I ventured over to where she stood, casting my gaze upon the newly posted item. It turned out to be the latest iteration of the company’s dress code, a document that seemed to have garnered her attention.

Glancing around the office, I couldn’t help but observe that most of my colleagues in the department had opted to dress conventionally today. However, my supervisors, June and Heather, remained in the same state of dress (or undress) as me.

Before diving into my email inbox, I took a moment to catch up with June, inquiring if anything noteworthy had occurred during my absence. Her response was succinct: “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

As Heather entered my office, I maintained my focus on the paperwork strewn across my desk, closing the door behind her. Her presence added weight to the air, signaling that our conversation was about to delve into more serious territory.

Listening intently, I nodded in acknowledgment as Heather broached the subject we had discussed the day prior. Her words carried a sense of vulnerability as she opened up about the challenges she had encountered after deciding to forgo clothing voluntarily.

Her admission of being touched without consent on the public bus sparked a pang of concern within me. It was evident that she had been grappling with a distressing situation, unsure of how to navigate it. My heart went out to her as I pondered her question, weighing the delicate balance between standing up for oneself and avoiding confrontation in a potentially volatile environment.

After a moment of reflection, I responded gently, “Heather, I’m sorry you had to go through that. In a situation like that, it’s important to prioritize your safety and well-being. If you feel uncomfortable or threatened, don’t hesitate to speak up or seek assistance from the bus driver or other passengers. Your boundaries deserve to be respected, and you have every right to assert them.”

In response to Heather’s question, I offered words of empathy and support, acknowledging the unfortunate reality of encountering individuals who disregard personal boundaries. “Heather, I’m sorry that there are still creeps out there who don’t respect your personal space,” I began, my tone sympathetic yet firm.

I then suggested a practical course of action, recommending that she consider sitting near the front of the bus where there is often more visibility and proximity to the driver. “If someone tries to touch you,” I continued, “turn around and look them right in the eye. Let them know that you do not appreciate being touched, and if that doesn’t stop it, don’t hesitate to report them.”

Heather’s response was a reassuring smile before she took her leave. I hoped that my advice provided her with a sense of empowerment and reassurance, without instilling fear or prompting drastic measures. It was important for her to feel supported and equipped to handle such situations with confidence and assertiveness.

Feeling a twinge of anticipation mixed with a hint of apprehension, I clicked on the email from Mr. Wood, the sender of the now-infamous message that had precipitated the unexpected turn of events leading me to forsake my clothing. The subject line, “Attention all Managers,” seemed to echo with a sense of urgency, prompting me to brace myself for whatever news or directives awaited within.

With a deep breath, I opened the email, eager to uncover its contents and, perhaps, glean some insight into the latest developments within the company. As the text materialized on my screen, I scanned the message, my eyes darting across the words in search of any clues or directives Mr. Wood might have imparted.

As I read through Mr. Wood’s email, a mix of emotions washed over me. The initial paragraph praised our collective commitment to adopting the new company dress code, acknowledging the sacrifices we had made and the courage displayed in facing colleagues and acquaintances in our newfound state of undress. It was a peculiar blend of validation and discomfort, recognizing our collective journey into uncharted territory.

However, it was the subsequent paragraphs that truly caught my attention. Mr. Wood’s mention of the approaching winter months served as a sobering reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. The prospect of enduring colder weather without the protection of clothing seemed daunting, prompting his recommendation for us to bolster our immune systems with vitamins and herbs to combat potential discomfort.

Yet, it was the reminder of the strict policy regarding nudity within the company premises that gave me pause. The directive was clear: no clothing was permitted on company property, regardless of external conditions. It was a stark reminder of the irreversible nature of our commitment to this new lifestyle.

As I absorbed the implications of Mr. Wood’s words, my attention was drawn to the final announcement: the mandatory “New Lifestyle Party” scheduled for the upcoming weekend. The inclusion of our families and the mention of a cash bar added a layer of complexity to the event, signaling a blending of professional and personal spheres that felt both surreal and unnerving.

With a sigh, I closed the email, feeling a mixture of resignation and uncertainty settle in my chest. The path forward was clear, yet the challenges ahead loomed large, casting a shadow over the once-familiar landscape of corporate life. As I pondered the implications of Mr. Wood’s message, one thing became abundantly clear: our journey into this new lifestyle was only just beginning, and the road ahead promised to be anything but ordinary.

Feeling the need for some fresh air after digesting Mr. Wood’s email, I decided to take a stroll through the main office area, hoping to clear my mind and perhaps catch up with some colleagues. As I made my way through the bustling workspace, I couldn’t help but notice a peculiar expression on Mark’s face at the back of the office. His demeanor shifted abruptly as our eyes met, prompting a sense of curiosity within me.

With June trailing behind me, I approached Mark’s desk, intending to strike up a conversation and perhaps uncover the source of his unusual expression. Yet, as I drew nearer, the reason behind his demeanor suddenly became apparent. Amber, well, you know ... I swiftly retraced my steps, retreating to the front part of the office where June and Heather had just arrived.