THE UNLOCKED DOOR

Back in 1962 when I was 11 years old, my cousin (the religious one) spent his honeymoon in our guesthouse. He and his new bride were Northerners, Florida seemed an exotic destination to them.

Late one afternoon, my mother pulled out crinkled photos of her sister back when she was a young girl. Mom instructed me to go fetch my cousin.

I ran over to the guesthouse and grabbed the door. To my surprise, it was locked. Otherwise, I would have walked right in! "Mom wants to see you!" I shouted.

"We're taking a nap!" he hollered back. "We'll be over in an hour." Even at age 11, I knew they were doing more than napping.

Fast forward to New Year's Eve 1986, I was 35. My cousin (now a single man) and I went out to celebrate the holiday. I mentioned that particular afternoon back in 1962. He recalled it as vividly as I did.

"Praise the Lord the door was locked!" he exclaimed. "I was on top of "Emma" when you showed up!"

Locks exist for valid reasons. They should always be utilized!

Recently, a friend took photos of me for use in a budget beauty/ healthy lifestyle book I am co-authoring with April Sampson. My friend shot the photos in a spare room with unflattering fluorescent lighting.

In an adjoining office, sat a man about 10 years my senior. He kept quietly to himself. We never acknowledged one another.

Between shots, I ran into the bathroom to change my jewelry and comb my hair. On one of these trips, my friend called out, in an attempt to stop me, only too late! When I flung the door open, the man was inside. I got quite an eye full! Embarrassed, I apologized and quickly closed the door.

Later, I emailed my friend. The evening before, I enjoyed a marathon of the TV show, 1000 WAYS TO DIE. I inquired if she had seen the episode of the man who duct-taped the kielbasa sausage to his thigh, put on tight pants, then went to a dance club to impress the ladies. He expired on the dance floor because the duct-tape cut off circulation to his heart! -- She had not. But I could almost hear her laughing thru the computer.

Then I asked, did she catch the one with the sculptor who boinked his statue. His ding-dong got stuck inside. In his struggle to free himself, he fell on the floor with the statue on top, crushing him to death. -- She had not seen that one either.

"That reminds me," I said. "Who was that man in the office? The one whose pecker I saw while he was taking a whizz."

"That my dear," she replied, "was my uncle. I planned to introduce you. However, after your awkward encounter, I decided to wait for another time when everyone's privates are covered...I hope you weren't traumatized," she added.

I reminded her that during my father's last year of life, he couldn't take himself to the bathroom or bathe himself. Seeing an old man's junk is nothing new for me. It's also one more reason I never want to marry.

We both agreed that should her uncle and I ever meet, I was to pretend I saw nothing. -- However, I will have no control over my blushing.