First, you have to have the date. This has been my failure point.
Come to think of it, you’re right; I had known almost all of them platonically for awhile. The bitter sweetness of going to a small college, I guess. Clapping would have been an understatement, though; I’m pretty sure you would have given me a standing ovation. I figured I could get naked at any point, but I wasn’t sure how the people in the arriving flights terminal would feel about that.
Ahhh, that must be it, then – we’re in different realities. Parallel universes.
Seriously – if that describes the way thgings work in your reality, then I live a truly, truly depressing life. I’ve long suspected as much.
Meh, let 'em watch. Better yet, plaster your naked self against the glass in the terminal as the plane comes in. Everyone on the plane will gasp, and I’ll just wave. Of course I would be quite embarrassed if it was some other naked guy. Nobody likes to wave at the wrong naked guy!
And did they explain also to the girls why they’d both put half a pound of Vaseline up their ringpieces and were kissing each other?
I think this depends on the date up until this point, really. He took me out to dinner and then we played Clue for an hour? He shouldn’t be naked when I come back from the bathroom. We didn’t get to the restaurant because we couldn’t stop making out long enough to get off the couch? If he were naked when I got back from the bathroom I would consider it a bonus.
I prefer nudity to clothes almost all the time and I still wouldn’t pull this with a guy on our first date. I spend so much time naked that the other day I put a shirt on after sex and my boyfriend said, “Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” but I would never force my nakedness onto someone that I wasn’t absolutely sure would be appreciative of it.
I think that’s a great way of putting it and sums up my feelings perfectly. 
We were both 36, so I wasn’t quite a girl, but…
On a second date with a man who didn’t even try to kiss me on the first date.
He arrived dressed to kill and I was impressed. I went to the bathroom to check my face one last time in the mirror and walked into the living roon where I’d left him sitting on my couch. He was surrounded by his clothes and in the act of removing his tightywhities when my gasp of horror caught his attention.
I bolted out of my own front door.
I started yelling at him to put his clothes on and come out of my apartment. When he did, I darted back inside and locked the door. I didn’t answer my phone for a week.
I told every woman I knew except my mom and sisters.
It’s funny now but it wasn’t then.
All right, I had one guy who tried this with me. It did not work. But I did go out with him again, in fact, a couple more times.
I guess this is one of the few instances where it pays to be female. This trick always worked when I was the one who got naked.
A female friend of mine confided that a Oscar winning actor pulled this move with her. It worked, so there’s one data point.
Not without more details, it’s not!
No kidding! That’s like a teaser in a movie trailer or something.
Not gonna give any names. But I will say that the guy got himself a hand job out of the deal and that under any other circumstances she would not have been up for it. Apparently he was in the bathroom with the door open getting himself, um, fluffed up when he called her in. She said that she wasn’t nearly as interested in him as he was in her and she had shot him down several times that night, and once he finagled a way for them to be alone this was his move. She said that it kinda caught her off guard and she was too shocked and tipsy to know how to react, and for whatever reason a handy was the result.
I’ll just say that it lines up with the premise outlined in the episode of HIMYM mentioned in the OP.
Ernest Borgnine has an Oscar.
I laughed, but I also hate you for putting that image in my head. It’s like old-fashioned nightmare fuel!