You know it’s going to be a good day when you’ve set aside an hour for pole fitness. We each had our own pole and our instructor was going through various moves with us. The room was large and her voice was small, so there were a few times when we needed clarification on some of the names of the moves. For example, the dipstick. “Did you say dickstick?” asked One And Done. To her defense, based on the elements of the move, dickstick made sense. A few moves later we were learning herpe. “A lot of people struggle with this one when getting tested,” the instructor informed us. Makes sense. However, once we received clarification, we learned it was herkie, not herpe, and when going instructors are getting certified this move is a tough one.
Overall, we did OK for our first time. My hat is off to pole dancers – those moves take a lot of upper body strength and coordination. As we were trying to be both strong and coordinated, we found adding a third component, sexy, wasn’t so easy. Sleepless reminded me of a comment I made to her while at PajamaOke, “Try and be sexy.” “I’m trying,” I told her as I not so gracefully wrapped my legs around the pole.
To end the intro session, the instructor taught us several amazing floor moves. These are essential, especially when you’ve just finished a fireman move and need a sexy move to take you from horizontal to vertical. While on the floor, Sleepless and I invented a new move. We realize the move itself is not entirely new, but the name for the move is courtesy of us: The George Washington. This involves using your T&A to retrieve $1 bills from the floor. If your skills are advanced, you’ll probably do The Benjamin Franklin.
After class, we came home to get ready for an evening at a piano bar. One And Done opted to shower. Sleepless and I opted to be dirty girls. While getting dressed, One And Done informed Sleepless she really likes g-strings. “I think they’re uncomfortable,” Sleepless told her. “I got used to them,” One And Done replied, contemplated for a minute and added, “but I don’t like ass sex, so it doesn’t really go together.” They may not go together, but information like that is priceless.
We arrived at the bar and, as most people do, immediately starting assessing the patrons. “That guy is wearing a neon ring,” said Sleepless. “What does it mean?” “We’re probably going home with someone tonight,” I answered. A little while later, Sleepless noticed another patron. She was a young, pretty girl, who was all dolled up for an amazing evening, and then she smiled. “It’s kind of hard to be really pretty and missing a tooth,” Sleepless noted. “Yes, that can really change the look,” I affirmed.
Tree joined us for the festivities and was loving singing all of the songs, “This is totally like karaoke, but there are other people here.” Sleepless was intrigued by Tree’s beer choice (more specifically, the bottle and label) and asked if she could give it a try. “I thought you didn’t like beer,” said Tree. “I’ve loved everything you’ve taught me,” Sleepless cooed. “I knew it,” Tree said with confidence.
Sleepless and I had decided we should start taking pictures of other people at events and posting them as ‘our friends’ on facebook. We would, whenever possible, have one of us in the picture, but only half of our face, a hand, or, perhaps, the back of our head. As we were taking pictures, I pointed a few things out to Sleepless. “You know how you can pick out swingers?” I asked her. “No,” she answered. “They usually come to bars like this wearing cheesy t-shirts, jeans and white sneakers,” I advised her. “Good to know. Let’s get a picture of their shoes,” she suggested.
We had taken pictures of several people in the bar when Tree informed us we were mean girls. “You’re totally mean girls. I see what you’re doing. Trying to get a picture of that girl in the red top.” “What!?!?” we said in unison. “Not true at all,” said Sleepless, “we were taking a picture of you.” “Let me see your camera,” said Tree. He took the camera and looked through the pictures, failing to find proof that we had taken a picture of the girl in the red top. “I can’t believe you would accuse us of such behavior,” I told him. Then Sleepless and I looked at each other and, without saying anything, knew exactly what the other was thinking: close call! Somehow, Tree completely passed over the picture of the girl in the red top.
We were all singing along to the songs when Tree made a comment to Sleepless, “I know there isn’t a screen to read, but that didn’t help you the other night either.” Sleepless looked at me as if to say, “Huh. How should I take that?” Then, she just kept on singing – right (words) or wrong. I looked at Tree and said, “Who is the mean girl now?” We had made several song requests and a few had been played. They refused to play Wilson Phillips and only agreed to play Grandma’s Feather Bed by John Denver if someone would clog to it. Ask and ye shall receive. One And Done jumped up on stage and clogged like there was no tomorrow.
As we were getting ready to leave, a few of the other patrons invited us to an after-party. We weren’t too keen on the offer, but we were keen on their ability to not spill their drinks. One, in particular, had been bumped several times and his beer had remained in his glass. “Not a drop,” he said and added, “I keep it on a swivel.” “Clever,” said Sleepless. “Much like pole fitness,” I added. And with that, we took our remaining George Washington’s and friskied out of there.