It was one of those hot summer evenings with a warm breeze, fun people and a sense of magic in the air. Marjorie was having a 50's style, old fashion, dress up pool party. Her back garden looked like something from a cocktail ad--lanterns glowing, the pool shimmering under the stars, men in sharp suits and women in cocktail dresses and pearls, as per the invitation

Marjorie herself, my old friend and the perfect hostess, was gliding from group to group with a smile that could have been patented. She paused by me and sighed lightly. "Darling," she said in that breezy way of hers, "the party is perfectly pleasant--but it needs something."

As I surveying the party I said, "Ya know, it's not a real pool party until someone jumps in with their clothes on."

Her eyes lit up like a flashbulb. "Splendid idea. Be a dear and do it."
"And what," I said, "do I get for risking my best suit?"
She tilted her head just so. "How about a big kiss?"
That was enough for me. Glass in hand, I strode to the diving board--still in my suit, tie, and polished shoes. The murmurs began almost immediately. "What's he doing?" "Surely not"

Standing on the end of the board, I raised my glass high. "To our radiant hostess!" "Here here" they toasted which soon turned into a "Jump! Jump!" chant by the crowd. Without a moment's hesitation, I stepped off into the cool water, the splash sending a chorus of laughter into the night. The water closed over me with a satisfying splash, my drink miraculously staying upright until the last possible second. When I surfaced, laughter and applause rang out and faces were lit with delight--and perhaps a little envy.

It didn't take long before others followed. One guest in a dinner jacket was pushed in backwards by his wife who was sporting a huge devilish grin. Another in a chiffon gown was "helped" in by a group of giggling friends. Dresses swished into the pool, ties floated like ribbons, and more than one gentleman was pushed in by a laughing lady. The air was full of shrieks, splashes, and the delicious sound of people enjoying themselves without a scrap of dignity. One by one, the others followed--some leaping in, some being tossed by friends who were far too eager . Soon the water was full of shimmering fabrics clinging in ways they hadn't been designed to, and the mood turned deliciously playful.

Couples laughed too close, splashed too much, and lingered just a bit longer under the surface. A lot of men's hands were lost underwater hidden by the women's floating skirts. It was so fun that people just stayed in the water. They actually just took the party into the pool, and it was delightful!


When I waded out of the pool, my suit clinging like a second skin, I walked straight to Marjorie. "I believe you owe me something " I said. She gave me a slow look from head to toe. "Good heavens, you do look sexy when you're dripping wet." Then she then put both hands on my face and pulled me in for warm and lingering kiss. I grinned and said "I bet you'd look just as sexy dripping wet" and before she could reply, I scooped her up and carried her over to the diving board. With the guests chanting "throw her in" Marjorie gave in, dramality threw her hands in the air, smiled and I deliciously dropped her into the pool. She came up sputtering, laughing harder than anyone, as the crowd cheered. I jumped in after her pretending to save her, but really just wanting my arms around her in that clinging, now see-through, dress (which was my real intention from the first moment I saw her when I walked in the party).

From there, the night became something people would whisper about for years. Jackets floated away, skirts floated to the surface, and more than one "respectable" guest decided the evening was better without quite so many clothes on.

Later Marjorie swam up to me, eyes shining and her arms around my neck. "Well, darling," she said, "you certainly did liven up the party."