Cazzy rang me last week and left a long message that contained the words ‘pole-dancing’, ‘happy hour’, ‘themed cocktail’, ‘corset’, ‘raffle’ and ‘RSPCA’ and that cut out at the words I would like to goooooooooo click. Beep, beep, beep.
It was last night and we did indeed go. But not in corsets. I drew a precise line in the sand there.
The pole dancing and ‘pole fitness’ (+ furious sessions with spray and wipe and a cloth inbetween goes) had already started when we got there. ‘Are we in time for happy hour?’ They didn’t have one. The themed cocktail? Nope. Raffle? Never heard of it. We showed them the event flyer that advertised such delights but they were at a loss. Our facebooked-up posse of extra punters soon arrived too and were equally bemused by the whole event.
Ne’er the less we had quite a jolly old time despite having to endure a lot of clumsy pole groping to the strains of the Pussycat Dolls by women dressed mostly as saloon girls of the old west. It was a bit of a have-a-go pole dancing night you see. The professionals were quite impressive though, with the priestess of the pole-dancing tribe being actually quite graceful and nice to watch. A lot of the uber-queens were quite good too. Ripped their little shirts off and leapt right on in.
Eventually a sweet little chap in a top hat turned up selling raffle-tickets for the RSPCA and… I won a prize. And what’s more… Pip won a prize. That’s us at the top there being happy that we won prizes.
My prize is one exotic dance lesson with the pole priestess. I can bring a friend. Pip’s is one pole dancing lesson. She can bring a friend.
Pip is a video artist too, so we are going to take each other as the bring-a-friend, video the whole deal and try and wring some collabo-art out of the whole experience. Pip is talking about wearing a ruched emerald prom dress while I have a rather nasty blue velour tracksuit I am thinking of trotting out for the occasion. I recently picked up a seven pack (one for each day of the week) of fake moustaches and if it weren’t for the Kingpins I’d wear one of those too.
This is us post our big win practicing our pole/exotic dancing faces. We will keep on practicing, don’t worry. I think that face makes me look like an albino Paul Stanley. Pre-op.
I bet he does pole-fitness…