Perversion
I went to The Slipper Room with Trout, Luke and Phil. It’s a bar with a Burlesque show; needless to say, I was pretty hesitant. Naked ladies! On stage!
And then I got the text from Trout, “Where are you?”
“On our way. 6 stops on train.”
“Oh God.”
So now Brian, the instigator, was saying he didn’t want to be there without us? AH. But HA because he shows up two hours late to everything, so suits him right to be stuck alone for once. How were we to know this was the exception when we planned our tardy departure
The shows were just strange enough to make the women seem ridiculous, not sexy or sexual. They seemed on edge, defiant, and practically ignorant of the fact there were people sitting 10 feet away watching them. It was weird. A regular looking woman, a super fat woman, and a man (oh FINALLY! a MAN! I thought, now let’s see how these dudes like it!) with tiny T-rex arms (ARE YOU FCKING KIDDING ME?! Rip off! At least the guys got one pretty woman.) and the DJ, who at the end of the night put on an endless playlist, got up on stage, took off everything but her underwear and shut the place down. Not in a barn-burner kind of way, but more like, a “no really, we shut off the lights” kind of way.
I guess the thing that struck me most about this place was the realness. Real bodies and the real people inside of them. Not perfect, not ideal, not outstanding, other than that they were willing to get up on stage and sing “breakin’ the law” with their butt cheeks.
