I bet you were a “Streaker “
In HS we invented a derivative sport we called Boving (pronounced baaa ving).
The five of us were The Bovril Boys, named after a kind of bouillon soup.
Basically on hot summer nights we'd sneak into our neighbors pools to cool off. In the buff, of course.
The first phase was the "Silent Bov." We'd set up our towels and clothes in a tree outside the fence, ready for a quick escape.
Then we'd climb the fence and slide quietly into the pool, like the weasels that we were.
After we were cooled off, we'd do a few cannonballs off the diving board and scream bloody murder and then run away, watching from the bushes, putting our clothes on as the unsuspecting homeowner woke up to a WTF moment.
If two next door neighbors both had pools, we'd do a "Double Bov." Exciting, but it dramatically increases the odds of getting caught.
One time we set the record with 7 Bovs in one night.
I'll never forget poor Mrs. Johnson running after us, shaking her fist and yelling "I don't come into your kitchen and make a sandwich without asking you!"
www.krtv.com
.
