I am a firm believer that you always need a backup plan for things in life. A plan B. An alternate.  A “Hey! If this doesn’t work out we can always…. “.  With that being said… I think its a good idea to know what won’t work.

I found myself this weekend in an interesting position… literally.  See, I have this BF that is going to be the one that wakes up next to be in jail not the one I call to bail me out.  This is the friend that had an “adult” party that I purchased the infamous  fucking Ben Wa Balls.  Never buy Ben wa balls… ever.  This particular experience I found myself wrapped around a pole.  That’s right… we took a pole dancing class.

We walk in and are greeted by our instructor.  She is one of those ladies that you take one look at and immediately think “gah what a badass.”  Funky hair… left arm is sleeved in tattoos… rocking body.  No one has ever looked at me and thought “badass”. That might just be my new life goal.

We sign our lives away with that good ole standard waiver.  Walk our way into this tiny as fuck room with 5 poles and an entire wall of mirrors.  Fucking mirrors… now all those down the row can watch me make an ass outta myself.  I always think that I have moves like Jagger, but then I catch a glimpse in myself and realize that I look like a retard.  Have I mentioned that my BF is an amazing dancer?! So amazing that she owns a dance studio… yea opposites attract in our friendship.  I am going to spare you all the nitty gritty details, but let me just tell you this… 1) My sexy walk looks like I have a wedgie I am ignoring 2) Even after 5 years in drum line I am not coordinated 3) Spinning around the pole is indeed NOT as easy as they make it look and last but not least 4) the demonstration she did at the end of all her tricks… was cool AF, but not entirely necessary.

Moral to the story? Lesson learned? That if shit goes south in the hairdressing business I can in fact NOT become a professional pole dancer.

Carpe Diem

Ashley xx