Okay, 'Uncle Bob' isn't a real person...well he is actually many real people, but they are not all named Bob. Uncle Bob is that poor schmuck whose wife or brother or some other 'dear' friend or relative, thinks it would be a great joke (all in good fun) to hire a dancer to writhe and gyrate around Uncle Bob at his birthday party. All for kicks and giggles of course. You Belly Dancers out there who have been hired for Birthday Gigs know what I am referring to. For those who just love Belly Dance, or aspire to become a professional dancer....here is an interesting look into what the future can hold for you.
Let me paint a picture for you, in all it's scandalous details and hilarious memories. :)
For those of you who do not know me, I live in Kentucky, in the Heart of the Bluegrass region. Horse Farms, Cowboys and Rednecks abound. The countryside is beautiful and wild and our Bourbon Distilleries are honored with pride.
I received a phone call for a last minute gig. This ladies husband was turning 40 and they wanted me to dance at his party. (First thought in my lil' head was, uh ohhhh) The Kentucky twang was coming through loud and clear over my cell phone. I asked my usual list of questions, the lady was really very nice and polite.
One of the things I sometime hear from prospective birthday party clients is, "We wanted to hire a stripper, BUT there are gonna be kids there, so we decided to hire you." I try really hard to not lecture people on exactly what I do, and how it is NOT sexual and that comparing ME to a cleaner version of a Stripper is actual quite insulting....but I do try to get the message across.
Well, happily I did NOT get the stripper comparison, of course, there weren't going to be any kids at this party, because it was being held at a bar. Yep, a bar. I did seriously consider not taking the gig. The thing is, the bar owner was the birthday boys brother, and the bar was actually going to be closed to the GP for the party. I was told it was just their close friends and mixed genders. Again, I repeat, the client was sweet and polite, and concerned about whether or not I would be comfortable dancing at a bar. I explained how I dance at Restaurant/Bars and Hookah Lounges and that I would be fine as long as everyone was respectful. She assured me we would have no problems.
So at this point you are probably thinking...oh no, don't do it! Not to worry, really, everyone was real polite and everything went pretty darn smoothly....considering.
The night of the party arrives, I decide since it is only a 12 minute drive from my house, and only a 15 minute gig, that I shall bring my husband with as bodyguard muscle (since it IS at a bar after all...lol) We leave out from the house and head to our destination...this is when the true fun begins. As we are approaching the address we notice there are no lights on any where, no street lights, no stop lights, and there are cars all over the place driving around. I call the client to see if everything is okay, it ends up the entire City of Frankfort was having a blackout. Luckily I had my portable CD player with and they still wanted me to come dance.
The bar was in darkness, filled wall to wall with all these people (who knew I was coming and even though they had been without electricity for hours, stayed to wait) candles sat on all the tables, a cloud of cigarette smoke floated through the air. Everyone shouted with enthusiasm and delight that the entertainment had finally arrived. My audience was a motley crew of Bikers and laborers (and their wives...phew).
I found that I couldn't go into the ladies room to take off my cover up. I seriously dislike uncovering my costume where the audience can see. My client graciously took me to a dark little nook at the back of the bar to help me. My music was ready, a gentleman with a ZZ Top beard and leather vest waited patiently to press play, and I was ready to go. The music starts to play and I gracefully make my way to the designated dance floor. Well guess what? They had, sneakily might I add, put a chair out in the middle of the dance floor and seated the birthday boy on it. They also thought it would be really helpful to place a few candles around the dance floor, so everyone could see me better. So here I was, in 'performance' mode, music playing, ready to perform and I had all these things that were NOT supposed to be there, on the dance floor.
1. a hot seat for 'Uncle Bob'
2. and open flames at ankle level
Yikes.......to be cont.
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