It was the end of summer and a friend had invited me as one of about thirty other people over for a barbeque at his apartment in the Lower Haight. A change in seasons doesn't mean all that much in San Francisco. The summer has a few nice days and hovers around seventy-seven degrees. Spring and fall are around seventy degrees and winter is in the mid-sixties. All four are windy and at night cold and foggy. An end of summer grill is really just an excuse to cook meat and have people over, but it didn't stop me from coming. I knew she would be there.

I'd worshiped her since I started working with her. Angela was her name and I couldn't think of anything more appropriate. She was a pale girl with dyed black hair and athletic frame who floated through the office on a cloud of pleasantness and I worked my schedule so as to be at the office coffee bar every morning when she walked in. She would pass by and greet me the same as everyone else and I would blush slightly, smile, and toast her with my cup of hot cocoa. I didn't work directly with in – I was never quite sure what her job function was – but I always made up some excuse to wander over to her desk, lingering with idle bits of conversation, before circling back to my desk so as not to look too suspicious. I don't know if she ever knew my name but I was positive that she knew me on sight and hoped that the two of us would get to know each other over a braughtwurst at our friend's little event.

On the Sunday that the Barbeque was held, I was – of course – the first person to arrive. His invitation said to come at two and I showed up at three thinking I would be fashionably late. I was a dutiful guest however and helped clean the grill then got the coals lit. I even threw one of the steaks I brought on just so that when people did manage to show up there would be something to eat. Around four the rest of the guests started arrive followed shortly by the people in the neighborhood who followed the scent and decided that it was finally time to get to know their neighbor. At seven I began to despair, fearing that Angela would never come but at seven-thirty she did and my heart swam with joy.

I avoided her four over an hour and a half until quite by accident I was leaving the bathroom as she was entering. I panicked at first, trying to make sure that I flushed and there was no mess that could be found which could be attributed to me but her smile put me at ease and she greeted me by name, asking how I was doing. I explained that I was fine and that I hadn't expected her to be there even though we both worked with the host and I figured that she would be on the guest list. She smiled again and the sheer joy that it brought me almost made me forget that we were talking in the bathroom doorway and that she probably had some business to take care of that I was postponing with my inane chatter. I stepped out of her way and told her in the happiest yet most casual tone possible that I guessed I could see her out there later. She nodded then shut and locked the door and I picked my beer up off of the table in the hall and continued my aimless lurking around the party.

At eleven, when the grill was done cooking and people started to leave one by one in search of the next thing to do, the ritual hot tub was started up and people started to strip and jump in. It looked like a good idea and I wished I had brought my trunks as I felt the cool air and the fog that came with it roll in. Since the only life left in the gathering was in and around the bubbling jets of water, I wandered up to it and realized that no one else had brought a suit with them either. In fact, everyone in – and some who just dipped their feet – the water was wearing no more than god originally gave them and one was Angela.

I'd imagined her naked. Many times in fact. Not in a lewd or obscene way though but more like a dream of gently lifting the covers of my bed so I could get out to fetch myself a glass of water and seeing her exposed back curving gracefully down to where she was still under the blankets. It was a vision I entertained myself with on the nights when I had nothing to do but watch the three movies I'd rented that evening and drink a bottle of wine alone in my apartment. But there she was with the water bubbling under her breasts, a smile on her face and the occasional laugh escaping from between her soft lips. Everyone around the tub was a coworker of mine and many of them I not only didn't think of with out clothes but whom I hoped that, should circumstances arise, I wouldn't ever have to. They saw that I was still there and bade me to undress and join their little circle. I blushed and said that I was thinking of going but they continued. Finally I gave in and unbuttoned my shirt, pulling off the t-shirt I wore underneath, then dropping my blue jeans. I got cheers, and a "Yeah!" from Angela, at the sight of my boxers which were actually patterned like the American flag shorts Apollo Creed wore against Rocky in the first movie. I smiled bashfully hoping they would all turn away before I dropped my drawers but they didn't. When they came off, the silence said more than anything else could have.

I don't know what happened but my little friend decided to retreat right as my shorts fell away leaving me with a void I was usually unaccustomed to. I was in full sight of the girl I wanted to marry and my buddy decided that he wanted to go into hiding. One of the guys around the tub, who must have known my embarrassment, started to ask about a recent movie but nobody answered, instead sharing a moment of silence with bowed heads usually reserved for the death of a loved president. At first I wanted to run, screaming into the house, picking up as many clothes as I could along the way, but I decided that if I didn't want rumors to start making their way around the office the next day it would somehow be better to suck it up, submerge my lower half in the water so no one could see it with the bubbles, and look them all in the eye, saying – with out words – "we both know what you saw, but let's keep this between us." Eventually conversation resumed and people acted as though the whole incident hadn't taken place.

It still wasn't the same. People were uncomfortable and no one wanted to be there when I pulled myself up for fear of repeating the same embarrassing incident. Eventually everyone, including our fine and gracious host, excused themselves and I was left alone in the tub with Angela. It was like a Rod Serling take on a dream of mine come true. Angela and I were naked together. As she scooted over next to me, I confessed that that usually didn't happen and she assured me that it was alright and the two of us sat in the hot water, looking out at the stars that could be seen above the neighboring building.