Return to the Beach

my artlessness got the best of me again. Today, after Breanne was cancelled at UCSF, we returned to the beach on the other side of the bridge. We discovered that not only is it an unadvertised nude beach, but it's a gay nude beach. We were the only ones there clothed and Breanne was the only one there without a dong, and I can say that indisputably because I saw everyone's white, brown, or black member dangling between their legs. Most of the nudists hung out around the corner, out of site of the main beach, which we discovered when returning to the main road. There was a single spot on the walking path that if you leaned over a bit and peered down, revealed a sandy carpet of flat rocks spotted with naked tanning men.
We probably won't return to the beach. Not because we're homophobic, but because I don't feel comfortable around naked people. I also felt that I was intruding on the nudist area. I actually like the idea of people being comfortable enough to swagger around, sans clothes, in the presence of strangers. It's just not for me.
Oddly, on the walking path on the way down to the beach, Breanne and I were 20 feet or so behind a man with an Ipod. Another man came up the path toward him and goosed him, in the crotch. The Ipod man flipped out, yelled something, but the gooser just walked on casually. I protected myself a bit with the beach bag, not really wanted my crotch grabbed. He ignored me. It occurred to me later that the gooser probably assumed the man with the Ipod was on his way to the nude spot. Still no reason to grab a stranger's knob. We saw another guy with the smallest pair of underwear I've ever seen, a child's speedo or something. Not fun to look at.
I probably should have realized that the nude man I saw yesterday wasn't an anomaly. You'd think I'd have lost a bit of my naivety having lived in Los Angeles in San Francisco for over a year. Not the case.