Oh hell yes, I did. I finally “got into” that burlesque class. I’m actually having fun with it, hamming it up, and having a good time. My teacher likes my hair and suggested that when I do my bike helmet bit, I should actually wear my hair loose and stuff it up underneath the helmet, so that after I unclasp the chin-strap, make a couple of silly faces, and then whip off my helmet, this enormous tumbleweed of unfettered hair goes whoofing all over the place. Then I can fling it all around like a reject from an Herbal Essence ad and get on with the rest of getting stuff off. The hair works for me, because it covers up my blushing so well.
Anyhow, she’s probably going to continue offering these classes, a new round of beginner classes and a more “advanced” class, for those of us who have already done the intro. And possibly some opportunities to perform in public. And yes, oh yes, now that I have beaten my embarrassment and awkwardness into submission, if I get a chance to perform this shit, you’d best believe I’ll be out there, hamming it up and taking it off. And no, no, I’m not one of those girls who’s so chock full of hotness she’s always showing off her bod or getting drunk and ending up nekked. Nope. It’s more like being in your skivvies is funny and definitely easier to cope with when it is a big, silly act. I mean, some of the funniest Monty Python skits involved guys in their boxers or in women’s underclothes, acting ludicrous. If I can dance in a manky sports-bra and a pair of guys’ jeans in class, I can probably work with something a little cuter on stage. Dunno if I’ll keep the helmet act or not. It is kind of fun because it is so incongruous.
Then again, if I wanted to resurrect my Petunia O’Grady alias, maybe I should do a sort of Charlie Dimmock ripoff with gardening gloves and a trowel and stuff. Though I don’t think the average Kansas City nudie enthusiast would get the reference to the UK’s favorite flower-planting redhead. Note to self: re-henna hair.
If I ever run for a public office and this comes up, I’ll be all like, “indiscretions of youth? Hell, no, I was 28, buck-nekked, grinning like a dog in the litterbox, and having a blast. Wanna see me pull a rabbit out of my bra?”
[…] I took a Burlesque class once, which was pretty awkward because I’m not very good at “sexy.” […]