My grandmother knew about me naked
The upstairs windows of the house where I used to live were quite high: the sill was at about diaphragm level on me (I’m at the thick end of two metres tall). Moreover, the house backed onto a lawn, and then a park; thus the only houses nearby were either facing in the same direction as mine, or else at 90 degrees on another street. Either way, I was confident there was no sight line to anything rude; and this meant that I didn’t have to worry too much about the curtains being closed properly (or, indeed, at all) for most of the time.

So Christ knows how it came to pass that I was told by my grandmother, who knew several people in the area, that they’d all seen me walking around naked in the house. How? Periscopes? Or was it that "naked around the house" in their minds was equivalent to "not wearing a t-shirt in the garden"?

It’s only since moving out that I’ve realised that there could have been a vague promise of a sight line: if the bathroom window was open, someone might just have got a glimpse of me as I climbed into and out of the shower. Not while in it: just for the half second I was moving past the sweet spot. I can only assume that the neighbours had clocked my routine exactly and knew where and when to look. Hidden cameras aside, it’s the only possible explanation.

I like to think that I warmed the aged hearts of a few little old ladies. They certainly used to smile at me in a friendly manner, bless.

Alternatively, it could have been my grandmother's incipient senility.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 12 Oct 2007, 15:07, Reply)