"Home sweet home," I thought, as I dragged my oversized suitcase up to the bunkhouse, behind Janine, who led the way, carrying a large duffel bag of mine. I never packed lightly.

The building was a large, long, rectangular shape, with a door in the middle on the long side, as well as doors on both ends. The outside was covered in freshly painted, white, clapboard siding, and looked like it had been there for a hundred years. It probably had been. Inside, there were two floors, with two sets of stairs on either end. Each of the floors was divided into multiple bedrooms full of bunk beds, in addition to a few utilitarian rooms. The floorboards creaked and the rooms were small, but it had an aura about it of being well-kept. The floors were swept, the walls clean, and the air smelled fresh. Framed black and white photos lined the hallways, with what looked like vintage pictures of the ranch; I would have to take my time to inspect them, later. The whole building was pleasantly cool, even though it was a hot day.

We dropped off my bags at the entrance, and Janine explained the layout, as she gave me a tour. The boys were separated from the girls—boys on the second floor, girls on the first—and there were separate rooms on each floor, in the middle, for adult leaders and parents to sleep in. The building had been retrofitted with handicapped access, including a ramp up to the entrance, and even had an elevator to the second floor. I was impressed.

I was to stay with the female staff, on the first floor, towards the end of the building, in a medium-sized room with four bunk beds; there were also rooms for male staff on the second floor. Janine was one of my roommates; I would meet the other one soon. We each got a full bunk to ourselves, and a small chest of drawers.

The bathrooms were down the hall, in the middle, again one for boys and one for girls. Although they had clearly been remodeled for handicapped accessibility, they were cute and vintage, with white hexagonal tile on the floors and white subway tiles on the walls. There was also a utility room with a washer and dryer, a small kitchen with a staff refrigerator, which as a vegan, I was definitely going to need, and a lounge, with old couches and a decrepit, old television, with a DVD player. The bunkhouse had a shared, small office for me to use to plan programs and research on the internet, as well, with a desk, computer, printer, copy machine, and arts and crafts supplies.

While I was charmed by the vintage surroundings, one thing hit me: there was no privacy.

It was like living in a college dorm again. Even though it had been a decade since I lived in a dorm, what can I say? It sounded like fun, and I was game. I was a natural extrovert and thrived off of being surrounded by people, the more the merrier.

After giving me the tour, Janine took off for the stables, leaving me to change and unpack.

I set my suitcase on the floor by my bunk, went out to the car to get my pillow, sleeping bag, and a few other things, and came in to change into jeans. Janine was going to take me out on a horse and I needed to be wearing long pants and good shoes. I also needed to not be wearing a wet, see-through white cami, without a bra.

Riding a horse was just the first part of my orientation. I was also going to meet the staff, get a tour of the grounds, and then I would be set free to plan programs for the first set of kids who would be coming on Monday, just three days later. The first group consisted of six kids from the California School for the Blind. Although it was a small group, I was sure that it was going to be a challenge. I rubbed my hands with enthusiasm, thinking of different ways we could have them experience the ranch, with senses other than vision.

Janine left me to unpack and change, and I quickly took off my shirt and stripped down to my thong, searching in my duffel bag for a bra, since my camisole had a shelf-bra in it.

And then I heard a recognizable, deep, male voice and loud footsteps coming quickly down the hall. Shit. Mr. Conservative Shower Man. I had, literally, no where to hide, and I had not thought to lock the door, which was standing ajar anyway. I moved toward the door to close it, but was too late. "Janine?" he called, and then knocked on the door frame and walked in, without waiting for a response.

Hi.

Now it was my turn to be caught naked. Well, practically. Amelia often accused me of being an exhibitionist, and I guess she was right. But now it felt like Mr. Grouchy Shower Man and I were even.

There I stood, wearing a white lace thong and my tattoos, boobage on full display. Even though I was skinny, with long legs, I almost filled a D-cup.  There was a cool breeze going through the building, which made my nipples pucker. But I'm sure he didn't notice.

I also had my tattoos on display.  On my left arm, down the inside, it read "Omnia causa fiunt," in script, meaning "Everything happens for a reason" in Latin.  On my left side waist there was a Noah's ark, with animals, two by two, spilling out onto the front of my waist and the back.  I was going to save them all, if I could.  On each hip bone was a star; I hoped that someday my lover would have matching stars and we could unite them.  On my collar bone was a dove, for peace.  And on my right ass cheek, up high near my waist was a green and blue mother Earth, to protect.

Mr. Handsome Shower Man stood there, staring at me. Then his eyes raked down my body, then up, then down again.

Then he shook himself and turned red, shoving his hands in his jeans. He had to be close to my age, or maybe older, so seeing him act sheepish was kind of cute, and a marked contrast to his earlier asshole behavior.

"Guess it's my turn to be sorry," he said gruffly, and turned to go.

"Wait," I said, still practically naked, not caring, resisting the urge to wiggle a little bit just to mess with him.

"Yeah?" he responded, not turning around.

"What's your name?"

He finally turned to face me and looked me in the eyes. "Will Thrash."

The boss.

It figured. He walked around like he owned the place because he did own the place. Oh well.

"I'm Marie," I said, reaching out my hand to shake his.

He looked at me like I was crazy, which I probably was. While I should be embarrassed, I wasn't. It was hilarious, like he couldn't figure out whether to shake the topless, practically naked, female employee's hand or not. It wasn't like we were in a strip club, where this was expected of the employees. He finally decided to shake my hand, and did so firmly, averting his eyes and looking to the side, and then said, "I'll just go look for Janine," and left.

After I heard his footsteps fade down the hall, I collapsed on my bottom bunk in peals of laughter. And then I got dressed and went to go join Janine with the horses.