Play It Again Sam
I went to a burlesque show last week. I didn’t mean to. It sort of just happened. The night started as a typical kind of weeknight. I went out for drinks which morphed into eating Big Restaurant Mexican Food. After consuming a forgettable meal and drinking two forgettable drinks and having a memorable conversation, we found ourselves at a local dive.
That isn’t a very good description of the place. There is a rather large sign out front and a big light projection on the opposite building advertising the place. It never crossed my mind to go in until some people we know invited us to tag along. You know how those things go.
We go in. We get drinks. Not ten minutes later the show begins. I saw oddly dressed chicks quarter-prancing about. The place is a rock venue so I didn’t think them too out of place.
Let me start by saying it wasn’t boring. It wasn't titillating or sexy, and it wasn’t boring. Women moving around on stage taking their clothes off will always be entertaining no matter the shape (roundish) or abilities (limited) of the performer.
I haven’t decided from which perspective to declare My Thoughts from. I feel like I could pat them on the back and say “Good job taking charge of your sexuality and mustering the courage to perform despite being rather large."
I feel like I could say "You just wasted my time that was terrible get off the stage you cow."
Either way I’m being an asshole and I figure that is my problem in this world. So I didn’t say anything. I also didn’t tip them when they passed around the collection hat. That act of almost-begging made it much easier to not-tip. Much like in figure-skating, I will let one mistake go without deducting fan points. In this case, joking asking for tips and donations is fine with me the one time. Any more and I want you to fuck up so horribly people start asking you for refunds.
I keep these thoughts to myself. Until I put them on the Internet like the brave soul I am.
This was originally published here