Her name… was “Love.”
“How y’all feelin’ today? Y’all feelin’ good? Y’all feelin’ nervous? Anybody in here feelin’ nasty? YES! ‘Cause I need all of y’all feelin’ nasty.”
And I immediately knew, I would love Love.
She had the biggest, brownest, and most beautiful booty I had ever laid eyes on, no bullshit, and man, this woman was fluid. She moved like she never stopped moving. Like all she did in life was flow. You know people like that; people who know what living is really about. This woman was living - no question about it - and she was about to live all over the thirty or so women in this class and teach us how to flow like Love flowed, and be fluid like Love was fluid, and be downright motherfuckin’ nasty, like Love’s big ol’ nasty booty. And I was the first one to step forward when volunteers were asked for. I wanted me some Love. And I got some, and then some.
We were short, tall, brown, white, young, old, skinny, full-bodied, fragile, and big-boned, but the one thing we had in common was that we were there to show ourselves and no one else just how sexy we could be. Oh, and that we were all showcasing our platform Stilettos. High heels and childbirth are the two things in the universe that will always make women far superior to men. They’ll just never get it and that’s why we will take over the world by 2037, but that’s for a future post, so let’s get back to the booty. Love taught us the basics first: How to stand and how to lean. How to have an attitude even if you were completely still, and how never to pick your shorts out of your butt no matter how much they disappeared in there. She showed us how to strut around our poles and how to never take our eyes off of the audience, even if they were someone else’s man. In fact, we were hoping they were someone else’s man. That’s how we roll in pole class. We fantasize and visualize while we exercise our sexy thighs. OH SHIT! I JUST MADE THAT UP!! HOLY HOLY SHIT! I’m so getting t-shirts printed and selling them at the next class. I’m a goddamned genius (mentally high-fiving Love in this fantasy).
Once our basics were mastered (HAHAHAHA!!!) Love decided it was time to show us a bit of choreography starting with a little move called “The Camel Rock.” The Beavis in me giggled as I immediately thought of another camel-related term but I quickly composed myself as she called for group one to come forward. Right arm high on the pole, left hand low and palm out, ass in the building next door eating KFC; that’s pretty much the stance you start out with. Then rotate each leg outward while you lock the other, making your butt look like the boat from that movie with Marky Mark and George Clooney. This, is the Camel Rock, ladies. Where is Butthead when I need him?
Next up? “The Body Roll”… Oh, I got this. If it contains the word “roll,” I’m all over it. Tootsie Roll. California Roll. Hoagie Roll. Rock n Roll. I can take it, baby. BRING. IT. ON! Love told us to cross our hands over the pole (again, another Beavis moment every time she would tell us to grab the pole. I swear I’m a fourteen year old boy some days) and tuck our heads before coming up into a roll, then once we arched our back we should drop our chest to our knees and slowly stroke the pole on our way back up. I mean, I was pretty much losing it internally at this point. I had to stop myself three times from yelling out “That’s what she said!” which I’m really glad I did, because by the end of class I was stroking poles, rocking camels, rolling bodies and doing… are you ready? LIFTS!!
My friend Sunny said to me, “Buy kneepads!” when she found out that I had enrolled in this class, and I laughed and kind of half took her seriously, until today. These lifts are no bullshit, and you will seriously F yourself up if you’re not dressed appropriately. But I tackled it. In fact, Love called me out for how well I did it. What? You mean I got extra attention for something? Oh, I 
No comments:
Post a Comment