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struts down the path-
    way wearing nothing but a speckled headband, bangle bracelets,
    and big hoop earrings. Polaroid pictures are snapped.
    It’s fun playing games with them because no one treats us like
    we’re younger—it’s like we’re all the same age, even though I know
    that we’re not.
    All the girls chime in singing and dancing, and it’s difficult to
    keep score. The pageant quickly turns into a silly dance party by
    the pool. The Playmates take our hands and show us intricate
    dance steps that we attempt awkwardly with our sandaled feet.
    After a while, we all order club sandwiches, barbequed potato
    chips, and Pepsi from one of the butlers. As we eat, I ponder all the
    mean things that both my mother and the kids at school say about
    the Playmates. Kids at school say they’re prostitutes and stupid.
    Mom says they’re worse than that.
    The Playmate in the fluorescent green bikini helps French braid
    Savannah’s long blond hair. Savannah giggles, loving the attention.
    One of the Playmates looks at me and smiles.
    I smile back, confused and slightly guilty.
    As time passes, nudity doesn’t bother us as much. After we swim,
    we use the changing rooms near the sauna. The rock-lined show-
    ers have no curtain or door separating the shower from the rest of
    the bathroom. My father takes off his bathing suit, never caring
    that anyone, including his daughters, sees him naked. He even lets
    us shower with him.
    I try to be careful not to look at Dad’s penis, but it’s difficult to
    avoid.
    Dad says there’s nothing wrong with nudity and thinks that
    people who have problems with it are not only insecure but igno-
    rant as well.
    30

    Playground
    He tells us that certain cultures view nudity as artistic expres-
    sion. He says it’s very natural and people have to let go of their in-
    hibitions and recognize that it’s just a form of self-expression.
    Savannah and I act like nothing’s wrong, but we never tell Mom.
    It’s 1980. I’m eleven years old and school no longer interests me.
    My life is divided between going to the Mansion and bragging
    about it to friends at school.
    Every morning I stand in a circle of girls in front of El Rodeo
    Elementary.
    “People drink and smoke around me, and no one cares. I hear
    swear words and see topless women. I’m number four on the pin-
    ball plaque, and order anything I want to my room,” I boast.
    “Have you seen anyone naked?”
    “Of course,” I respond, as if I’m the Queen Bee of sex.
    I’ve become popular overnight. I’ve switched from coke-
    bottle-thick glasses to contact lenses as new friends surround
    me. I sport a new perm and parachute pants with lots of zippers.
    I’ve adopted the Izod signature look and wear colored tuna clips
    in my hair. Aviator Ray-Bans have become my trademark. All my
    friends want to come with me to the Mansion but their parents
    won’t let them. Their parents give them the same reasons my
    mother gave me.
    “They’re close-minded and don’t have a clue. They don’t even
    know Hef.” I defend him as if he were my own father. Sometimes I
    sneak a friend or two up there, but they have to promise not to say
    anything to their parents.
    Slumber parties with my girlfriends at school have become re-
    ally huge. After being MIA for a while, I tell them I will definitely
    be at Amber’s sleepover that Friday night.
    Come Friday, four of us lie around upstairs in Amber’s room
    surrounded by junk food and Queen, Michael Jackson, and Bee
    31
    J E N N I F E R S A G I N O R
    Gees records. The conversation shifts from boys in our grade to
    the Mansion in a matter of seconds.
    “Why does your father take you up there so much?” asks Sonya,
    flipping her permed hair.
    “Do you think your dad sleeps with all those Playmates?”
    Michelle blurts out in a snotty tone.
    My face turns bright red.
    “I don’t know, but Hef has a huge game room with three pin-
    ball machines, a jukebox, a pool table, and