Category: Dancing

Tip that Motherf*****!

Rarely do I attend an event after work besides dance or yoga class or going swimming. Every now and again, something tempts me away from that exercise regimen.

Speaking of “men,” some friends and I got together for what was advertised as the “Australian Take Over.” Perhaps the ripped guy in the poster was an Aussie, but certainly not any of the actual dudes in the show. But what do you expect for less than $20?

After eating at a nearby restaurant, we walked over nearly 30 minutes after the show was supposed to begin.

One of my friends somehow knew that the show hadn’t begun yet and joined us about 15 minutes later.

The show opened with that classic male dancer song, “It’s Raining Men.” One friend remarked how young most of the dancers looked. I told her that was because we were older women. Actually, the guy in charge was older. They could’ve totally rebranded themselves as “Big Dog and the Pack of Pups.”

The oldest dancer played a triple role as the DJ and hype man, who probably wore even more hats as manager/father/asskicker. As a matter of fact, the title of this blog post honored his most common refrain throughout the event.

I’d prepped ahead to make it rain. Normally, I use online banking. However, the Saturday before the event, I happily skipped into the bank stating that I needed $40 in ones. Even a small rain shower grows flowers, right?

Well, I went with $40 and returned home with $34. Apparently, I just made it sprinkle. One of those experiences where a drop or two hits you, making you wonder if it was raining.

When I shared that conclusion with Mom, who’s notoriously cheaper than I am, she admitted that the last time she’d attended such an event, she just sat back and watched, never tipping once.

In February, I filed my taxes and was beside myself because the great state of NC refunded me a dollar. Even with the attitude of “at least I didn’t owe the state money,” I felt insulted not to receive a bigger return. I even started a quest to find at least a dollar in change as an ongoing 2026 quest. To date, I’ve only found two cents, which I think is a reflection of how hard times are, with everyone looking down for fallen loose change.

Nonetheless, with the first dollar I tucked into a male dancer’s waistband, I thanked the great state of NC for providing me the means to “tip that motherfucker.” After all, that dollar represented 1/6 of my money that found its way to a stripper.

The most lucrative way the dancers made money was to sell “hot seats.” For $40 dollars a pop, women sat in a chair on stage, along with their dancer of choice who interacted suggestively with them. When he finished with one, the stripper escorted her off stage so any other woman who’d paid could replace her on stage.

Additionally, before the hot seat dance began, the DJ/manager encouraged the audience to set our girlfriends up by tucking money in various parts of their clothing. The more money she was decorated with, the more the dancer interacted with her.

One woman, who had obviously been in a recent accident, rolled up, using a walker, with her left arm in a sling. She’d sprung for two hot seat dances. Both dancers impressively accommodated her condition. They were duly rewarded because she’d reach into that arm sling, and pull out money to shower them with.

Now, one group of women had at least $1,000 worth of money. They bought hot seats, made it rain money all night long and set their girlfriends up for a good time.

At the end of the night, the dancer who’d brought his drink on stage in the beginning when they were being introduced, danced his hot seat set. During the middle of his dance, someone had bought him a shot, which he paused dancing to shoot.

The last woman he had on stage was part of the rich making-it-rain-all-night group of women. He placed her on the floor, whisked off her crocs, sprayed whipped cream on her toes and put one foot after the other into his mouth to eat the cream off her feet.

B L E C H!

Even the DJ/manager remarked, “Johnny, you’re a better man than me!”

Some things are too nasty to be sexy. I mean, when Ludracris sings, “I wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes,” THAT sounds sexy. There’s a good reason he doesn’t sing, “I wanna, li-li-li-lick your musty croc toes.” Although some would be into that.

Perhaps Johnny had drunk tequila at some point in the night. That’s the only alcohol I credit with medicinal properties.

BUT STILL.

I glanced at my friend, who had the same look of disgust on her face as I probably had on mine. I mouthed the words, “Ready to go?”

She nodded.

Although we’d missed the finale, we’d gotten our money’s worth. The next morning, I woke up in a good. I won’t need another ladies night out like that for another decade. Or until I become one of the make-it-rain-all-night rich women. Whichever comes first.

Ya’ll Look Like Amazons

Whenever I receive a gift card, I always use it to support one of my hobbies. In this case, one purchase supported two interests: pole dancing and swimming.

I used the latest Christmas gift card to pay for half of a stylish two-piece swimsuit. I’ve worn other two-pieces to pole class before, but I’ve never worn something off the shoulder, which I was sure would work well on the pole.

As soon as we finished our warm up, I removed the outer layer of clothing to reveal my new “pole outfit.” Another student yelled across the room that she loved what I was wearing. At the end of class, I invited my spin pole instructor to join me for a picture.

When I shared the pictures with my sisters, one remarked that we looked cute. The other said, “Ya’ll look like Amazons.”

When I was a child, I wanted to be an Amazon a la Wonder Woman. Strong, beautiful and smart. This may be the closest I can come to that.

The following week, I tested out swimming in the new suit. To my surprise, I didn’t fight with the top while lap swimming, especially when I swam the butterfly. I feared that my left breast would fly out. No wardrobe malfunction on the inaugural swim.

The ultimate test was wearing it to the other pole dance class: Introduction to Inverts. Sure, I fidgeted a little with the top during the warm up, but once I got into the thick of practicing upside-down maneuvers on the pole, I forgot all about my attire. My energy went into executing the maneuvers. Happy to report that even through that strenuous exercise, everything held up and tucked in.

I hardly ever buy clothes, but every now and then, I enjoy working out in fun workout clothes.

Even Tastier

The first time I attended a pole-dancing competition, I was brand new to the sport. I couldn’t analyze many of the moves, but the most impressive thing I witnessed was different body types poling very well. Up until that point, I had lied to myself about losing around 20 pounds in order to do certain pole tricks. Afterwards, I realized that I only needed consistent practice, not drastic weight loss.

The same friend who’d driven me there the first time, drove again. We missed the 10 AM performance of another student from our studio, but we eventually saw our former teacher much later in the evening.

We located three other teachers from our studio, sitting in the third row. One of them informed us that the event was running an hour and a half late. Judges had difficulty submitting their evaluations electronically. The time in between performances lagged by several minutes. At one point, when only about five minutes had passed between competitors, we cheered.

Although this event occurred on the second official day of summer, that was the beginning of the heatwave. The facility jacked up the AC. Granted, competitors needed the cool temperature so the poles wouldn’t become slimy even after volunteers had cleaned them in between performances. Of course, I forgot to bring a sweater or wrap.

We dashed out to eat. Shivering had worked up an appetite. I practically inhaled my coconut lamb curry with buttered naan and mango lassi. The warm (both physical and figurative) ambiance made the food even tastier.

Once we returned to the pole competition, a woman who had a red toy car fit for a toddler on stage, was in the middle of her performance. Not only was her performance infused with humor, pole tricks and storytelling, but we later learned that the 62-year-old had practiced her routine for a year. She was elated that her four-minute routine had not left her out of breath. She definitely deserved that first place award.

The next performer was a much younger man of color. Earlier, when we were checking in to get our wristband, I’d complimented his fabulous Afro. He performed a sensuous routine to a slow 70s song. Although he’d strutted on stage in a black, flowing, feather-trimmed robe, once he threw that to the ground, his pole attire was the stuff of male dancer fantasies.

We left after our former pole teacher performed, vowing to make our attendance to the yearly competition an annual celebration. Also, I have taken away different inspirations each time I’ve attended.

Manifesting Spiderman

One of the pole fitness classes that I attend regularly is “Intro to Inverts,” which, out of context, sounds like a class for people who want to learn about introvert personalities. Instead, the physically challenging goal of this class is to perform various acrobatic exercises upside down on the pole.

Initially, I thought there would be around ten moves to learn. For a creative person, I woefully underestimated the exponential invert choices someone can make given her skill level and imagination. I like to think of the class as “gymnastics with a pole.”

One of the moves, which isn’t technically an inversion, but can be achieved from an inversion, is superman. Several methods can be used to end up in the superman pose: holding onto the pole with one hand, faced down with the pole between the legs and the other hand outstretched as if flying.

I first attempted this move a few months into my pole journey nearly three years ago. The superman pose exposed many weaknesses in my abilities. Unlike Superman being weakened by kryptonite, I grew stronger in my pursuit.

Over time, I’ve gained upper body strength and flexibility through regular pole fitness practice. Every now and again, I’d attempt the superman. All the elements that go into positioning myself into the pose had improved, but I still couldn’t completely execute the move.

Amazing how close I got without actually getting there. Yet in one class, I’d slid down to where my feet were on the floor. That was the only way I completely twisted my hips into position. Apparently, my shoulder needed to be a smidgen more flexible to hang onto the pole while dangling.

Nonetheless, I celebrated the small success. I happily exclaimed to my friend, who was practicing on a nearby pole that I’d reached a new level in my superman pursuit. Except I kept calling the pose “spiderman.”

Even when I tried to correct myself, I continued to call the move “spiderman.” I joined my friend laughing. I’d spend all my concentration on performing the move. Who cared if I called it the correct thing?

Weeks later in chair dance class, the same friend and I retold that story since there’s also a chair pose where you balance on top of the back of a chair like superman, which is far more achievable for most than the pole version. I performed the chair version of superman on the very first try and never mistakenly called it “spiderman.”

The dance instructor showed us the chair version of the spiderman pose. It was far more acrobatic since you had to balance on your arms on the chair with one knee bent to reach an elbow.

After showing us the pose, another instructor walked in, sporting a T-shirt decorated with little Spiderman heads all over it. I nearly lost it. “We manifested Spiderman!”

Coincidence? Just in case this was part of external forces yet to be explained, I want to manifest other things with my Spidey senses. People always talk about thinking positively and projecting/being the things you want to see in the world.

For the latter part of 2025, I’m going to meditate on having a much better ending to this year than beginning. Lord knows that 2024 ended very poorly for me.

Make-Up Snow Days: Adult Version

Attending exercise classes after work powers me through the work week. Usually a yoga/stretch or a dance class. I distinguish days of the week by the class I’m taking after work.

So, when the second Southern snow storm blew through and caused me to miss two days’ worth of classes, I scheduled those two classes the following week. Otherwise, I’d lose money for those prepaid classes.

Fortunately, I already had Monday off since I had a doctor’s appointment. I booked two classes that evening.

I thought by not working my desk job that day, I’d perform better in those classes. Turned out, I’m STILL middle-aged. Whether I work my day job or not, taking two classes in a row wears out my bad knee and ankle, which happen to be on the same leg, but I’ve not yet reached the point where I will declare the entire appendage “bad.”

Nothing makes me feel my age like aches and pains. I even had the bonus temporary symptom of my left foot turning inward, a severe-looking pigeon toe, all on its own. I attribute that to nerve strain which, in the past, has always resolved itself over time.

At least I didn’t lose any money. The bottom line is the bottom line. I squeeze every penny until Lincoln screams for emancipation.

I’ll need all the pennies I can save now that the Orange Menace has imposed tariffs on Canada, Mexico and China.

Breakfast for Dinner

In my latest attempt to align my lifestyle with my health goals, I researched what meals are better to eat a few hours prior to working out. Turns out, the egg and avocado pairing that I usually eat every morning is perfect for a light meal. The challenge is that I’m not going to eat that twice in one day.

I had to find something uncomplicated to make in the morning for myself since I also make breakfast for Dad. As a matter of fact, that “eggs every morning” breakfast I prepared was Dad’s expectation. For the sake of simplicity, I cooked enough for the both of us.

Years ago, I’d kicked the vast majority of breakfast foods to the curb, given the sheer amount of diabetes-inducing sugar they all contained. As I’ve gotten older and menopausal, weight gain occurs as seemingly easy as merely looking at food and alcohol.

My canary in the coal mine is my left eye. Ever since I was in middle school, when I started wearing glasses, it has been the weaker of the two eyes. Now my weaker eye has the added phenomenon of experiencing a dull ache whenever I’m too stressed or have consumed too much sugar. My left eye has even gone temporarily blind with an overload of stress.

Most of my stress relief has been exercise, which, up until I hit menopause, also helped with weight management. Now, I’ve entered brand-new territory as I navigate how to maintain an enjoyable and healthy life. Those two pursuits don’t have much common ground.

The goal is to ward off diabetes and other ills through diet and exercise. I already exercise on a regular basis. Plus, I’ve stopped having a daily glass of wine. It’s no longer feasible to buy the large boxes of wine since it goes bad before I finish drinking it.

So, I have oatmeal for breakfast, followed by my biggest meal of the day, lunch, with a light snack for dinner, then a small serving of mixed nuts with dried fruit after working out. I’m still trying to gauge if that post-workout snack has too many calories to sleep on or if weight gain is inevitable regardless. I don’t want to negate the workout, but I cannot go to sleep without a little something to keep stomach growls at bay.

Gaining a New Perspective

Two years ago, I abruptly uprooted my life. I’d seen the writing on the wall, which read: my income hadn’t revived since the pandemic. At least I was already working from home and could take my job with me.

Too bad my social life wasn’t portable as well. I rebuilt it from the ground up. A little more challenging since I worked from home. The first thing I looked into was African dance classes. Not only were the vast majority of classes geared toward students and children, but absolutely no African dance classes were offered. The only adult dance classes I found were for pole fitness.

I’d taken many different styles of dance class and this style had been on my bucket list for several years. Yet, the genre has been so sexualized that I couldn’t find a friend to try it out with me. Now, I had no friends to persuade.

For the first few months, I wore a mask. Didn’t bother me one bit that I was the only one. I was already going outside my comfort zone as the oldest student at 52.9. Plus, I was extra cautious since my parents were in their 80s and had just recovered from a mild to asymptomatic bout of COVID when I’d moved back home.

I’d taken four months of classes when I attended a pole dancing competition as an audience member. That experience helped to tame my inner critic.

Not only did I witness a range of body types, but also a range of ages. So, although I wouldn’t magically age backwards, strenuous exercise would help keep me strong, flexible and energetic. Three qualities normally associated with youth.

Moreover, I didn’t need to lose weight to invert on the pole. That was a limitation I put upon myself because I “needed” to lose 20 pounds. Yet, once I saw women much larger than me effortlessly inverting among all the other acrobatic moves, I knew that all I really needed to do was practice.

Although new skills take me longer than the average student to acquire, with regular practice, I eventually accomplish my goals. No matter how “bad” my performance may seem in any particular class, every effort provides a really good workout. That’s truly the bottom line.

My Sultry Little Valentine

I’ve hardly ever experienced the cliche, romantic celebration of this so-called holiday, but I’ve always looked for interesting activities such as a themed pole dancing choreography class. The workshop was so popular that students doubled up on poles, which suited me just fine because I would have been exhausted had I danced the entire two hours.

As a matter of fact, the woman who I shared with, hadn’t taken classes as long as I had. So, I gave her some basic pointers about hand, shoulder and foot placement. So much of pole dancing is physics.

However, I’ll need more years of practice before I can dance with the emotion and artistry of my teacher: