August 10, 2012

• I Used To Dance With The Chippendales…….sorta

   

   

                               LAST DANCE

      I was a hormone scorching “Chippendales” dancer some years ago. I loved it. I had performed at “Floppy’s” for over six years. Then one sad night, during New Year’s, I fell off a table and landed in the lap of a cafeteria cook from one of the local elementary schools. She loved it, but I blew out my knee. I had an acl rupture and partial tear to the pcl. My dance career vanished like a fart in a cyclone. When I was stable enough to hobble back to the club again, they had already removed my posters and my signature bar drink, “The Penetrator”, was no longer on the bev board. This was only the beginning of my depression.

      Mrs. Marcher, the club manager, kept me on at the club four nights a week cleaning up after closing and doubling up as bouncer on weekends. I couldn’t say no, as no one in town would hire a broken down grinder. Still, it was honest work, just minus the one dollar bills. After closing I would haul the trash out the side door into the alley and as always there were appreciative patrons using the boy toys like bassoons. My days of physical revelation was over. The only thing I put out now was trash. Now, after work, I just go home with a cheap 12-pk, put on my old leather thong and watch old videos of my days in the spotlight….and weep.

      One day, while driving by a construction site, I noticed one of the laborers that was digging a trench. He started jumping and gyrating! Seems he had stepped onto a mound of fire ants. He was all over the place and I had to admit, he had some good moves during this traumatic event. What was really interesting was that he was well into his thirties and weighed over 200 pounds! I had an epiphany! Why not form my own group of male dancers that are built into the comfort zone of life and open a club! 

      Well, four months passed and tonight I opened “Sweet Bubba’s”. The guys were all well bellied and sensually mature. I advertised that the first round was on “Sweet Bubba’s” for all the ladies. In my ad, I also informed the public that they would see things they had never seen before!

      The doors opened for the first time at 8 pm tonight. Within twenty minutes the entire club was filled to capacity and beyond the safety codes. I had worked long and hard with my untried dancers and tonight was their night. They were all well oiled and dressed in reinforced thongs. I also had the forethought to give each a Viagra and placed comfortable chairs out in the alley for their patron breaks. At 8:45, the first on my review strutted his way onto the runway stage. He was “Beer Gut Sammy”. 5 ft 8 in….235 pounds of grinding man love. From my office I heard everything.

      When Sammy went into his dance routine, the entire club went silent. As each new dancer waddled out to join the others on stage, the club appeared to get even quieter. Then I heard screams of, “Oh my God!!!”  Glass was being shattered, there was laughter, abundant swearing and my dancers crying for help. The crowd was not happy. It lasted for over 20 minutes until the police cars and ambulances showed up.

      I have recounted the evening’s events on my Xanga blog site so all would know my side of the story. I was told that I may be liable for the injuries to my dancers, the heart attack of an older patron and a drag queen who sustained two broken legs. My club has been destroyed. My life has been elevated into the stratosphere of ‘suckness’. I am now going out into the dark alley and sit down. Then I am going to put the barrel of a 38 into my mouth and pretend it’s a bassoon……….BANG!!!

   

   

   

   

  　

   

  • 11:55 pm
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