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FINDING MY PURPOSE ON THE POLE

Note: This does post not contain any pictures or videos of me on the pole because I can’t trust you guys (not you mom, I can trust you).

Last Thursday, my “friend” at Silent Socialite asked me if I knew about Taboo Dance and Aerial Fitness‘ Holiday Pole Jam. I was like nah but that seems fun. Another friend encouraged it, stating it would be a great opportunity to make new friends and I love making new friends because I am so friendly (I’m not). Then, I decided it would be too much socializing, I didn’t have any shorts (which was suggested on the site), plus it cost $35. Do you people think I’m Bill Gates? But, I was unsuccessful in getting out of it, took out a second mortgage and bought my ticket (first of all, I don’t have a first mortgage), and bought shorts from Old Navy that showed more thigh than I was comfortable with. I invited the friends I thought was most likely to have rhythm.

It was Friday night and I was wondering what should one eat before swinging around a pole. I settled on wine and a baked potato Baby Gumbeaux ate most of. Upon arrival, my “friend” was just getting out of her car, we entered the building together, and was encouraged to drink. Drinking then hitting the pole seemed dangerous but whatevs.

It was time to start and opposed to the traditional stretching, we twerked it out to City Girls. This, I can do. I had been waiting for an opportunity to twerk outside of my living room. Now, to the pole. At this point, I would like to explain why my friend received quotation marks. There was a lot of chorography to be learned in two hours, is this the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater? Not to mention, I had to keep spraying rubbing alcohol on my hands to grip the pole. I thought I should arrive like a melanin goddess so I applied Vaseline, cocoa butter and glitter before arrival. It should’ve been common sense that arriving as a greasy and glittery chicken strip would prohibit me from gripping the pole but sense isn’t always common.

We were split into two groups and each time it was my group’s turn, I envisioned killing my performance and I most definitely killed something, just not the routine. Overall, I had fun. So much fun that I was ready to join the class and become a competitive pole dancer, my true purpose. But first, I need to ditch the basic bitch gym membership I have so if there are any doctors or lawyers who can get me out of this contract, email me.

Side note: I was sore af the next day. Not sure I left the bed much that day. To be quite honest, my knees still hurt. Why do my knees hurt? Anyway, follow me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @pinkgumbeaux. And, I have a podcast! It’s for transplants and sometimes locals which may never apply to you but check it out anyway, I need the numbers.

I love us for real.

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