Pole Dancing!

I know it's been a week since my last post, so let me explain my absence. I'm having a terrible time at work at the moment, and have been somewhat down and depressed. I sincerely doubt that anyone comes to read my blog, let alone any blog, to bring them down, so I decided to take a break until I could see the lighter side of life a bit better. In an attempt to break out of the depression, I decided to pick up some kind of physical activity, which is how, on Tuesday evening, I ended up wearing skimpy shorts and high-heels in the middle of Just Hooters.

I had been considering taking pole-dancing classes for some time, but was put off by the $40/class price tag at most schools and gyms. I'd also noticed that the instructors tended more towards athleticisim than sex appeal, and lately I've been thinking that I need to 'get my sexy back'. So, when I was walking past one lunchtime and saw the sign offering lessons for $10, on the door of a strip club, I couldn't resist. Who knows how to get sexy more than someone who's rent payments depend on it? So, Tuesday morning as we're on the train to work, my boyfriend peers into my bag and says "Why on earth are you taking your heels and gym shorts to work?"
"Oh, I thought I'd grab a pole dancing class tonight after work"
"Oh, ok then."

I feel blessed to have a boyfriend who trusts me and knows me well enough to not have to query the 'what/why/buts' of this declaration, although he was obviously concerned with the where and when. I actually think he was secretly pleased and entertaining visions of me twisting my way around the pole that would magically spring up in our loungeroom on the next special occassion.

I was the first person to come in for the class that evening, and was met with what seemed to be an empty club. The next people that walked in fired questions at me, and it turned out that they also were attending their first lesson (it later turned out that more than half the class was in the same boat). Obviously my new companions hadn't seen the inside of a strip club before. Both were looking at the poles with a mix of fear and wonder, and met one of the 'working girls' with the same air. The dancer chatted away happily about her new job, while my companions stared in awe. I, however, had been somewhat wild in my younger days and had many times seen the inside of strip clubs (in fact, I was strangely fascinated by them for quite some time - the intricacies of the dancing amazed me, withstanding the fact the executors were nude). It didn't take me long to get bored, so I ran off to get changed. By the time I'd returned our instructor was back, so we threw ourselves into the technicalities of looking sexy while dangling off a pole by (in my case) arms that were really too weak for the activity.

I did learn how to do several tricks, and apparently am a natural. I fully intend to go back next week, although my arms even now are protesting at the idea. For anyone considering this that hasn't yet done it, I say find a strip club and ask where their girls train, because not only is it great fun, it can massively improve your fitness and help you 'get your sexy back'. It's also a great way to make friends, not to mention the countless opportunities you'll have at laughing at the way you look in the mirror.