Thursday, November 6, 2008

Stripper Fabulous

Thanks to the crappy weather and the growing pimple on my chin, I've decided to stay inside today and do some work on my latest novel idea, "How to lose 80 pounds, Quit Smoking, Become Jewish and Write this Book."  As I opened up my outline and started to dig in to Chapter 1, I quickly became distracted by the not-quite-cocoa-butter smell wafting off  my shoulders into my nose and it got me thinking about strippers (a demographic I've long been fascinated with) for a few reasons:

1.  Strippers smell and feel like lotion.  Layer upon layer of multiple scents greased on to make them soft and shiny.

2.  A few years ago I read an article about these creatures of the night (and the lunchtime buffet) and their beauty routines.

The statement this article was out to make was that rich women spend thousands and thousands of dollars to try to look naturally beautiful while strippers spend as little as possible to make themselves look as done up as possible.  Reflecting on this, and given my current state of employment, I guess this is my chance to spend as little as possible and get my stripper on.  It doesn't hurt that I'm headed to Vegas next week and have an appointment with a pole to get me in the mood to get myself into tip top lap dancing shape for under $25.  

Step One - Exfoliate.  With the declining economy and the $30 price tag on my favorite body scrub, I decided now would be the time to dig into my storage closet and whip out that Bath & Body works set I'd been planning on regifting when the right opportunity came along.  One long shower later and I'm softer than a baby's ass.

Step Two - How do I put this delicately? - Hair Removal.  Step foot into your location version of the Bada Bing and the first thing you'll notice about the lovely ladies on the main stage is that there is not an unwanted hair on them.  No more expensive waxes (followed by a pushy Russian laying on the pressure to buy expensive products) for me.  Thank god for the invention of the razor.  Just like your friendly neighborhood lap dancer will tell you, there's no time to "grow it out" between waxes when a smooth surface is your main source of income.  So off I went to Duane Reade, where I spent $4.79 on Aveeno's Positively Smooth Shaving Gel.  

Step Three - Get your Tan on.  As I squatted down to get to the bottom shelf at Duane Reade I took one look at my legs and noticed that I am so pale that I am basically translucent.  Instead of heading off to the tanning booth, I picked up Nivea's Self-Tanning Firming Lotion (two birds with one stone) for the bargain basement price of $8.47 - beats the 25 bones I'd spend courting melanoma in a tanning bed.

Step Four - Nails.  No stripper is complete without a good set of acrylics to scratch down her customer's back.  Now, I have worked too long and too hard to get myself off of a weekly set of tips in Staten Island, to go back to a "full set."  With that said, my nails are looking a little scraggly and I can't rightfully walk around all tan and smooth with nails that scream construction worker.  Thanks to a one dollar bottle of Wet-N-Wild polish, I've got the brightly colored, slick nails of Scores finest.

Step 5 - Dress the part.  Luckily for me, I don't have to venture back into another vintage store for something cheap and skanky.  I only have to venture into my closet.  Two years ago, just after my first trip to Vegas, I purchased for twelve measly dollars, the smallest item of clothing I own and have been dying to wear it ever since.  In the words of T, my fiance, "the only place you can wear that dress is in Vegas or to a Halloween Party."  Well, Halloween has passed, so it's a good think my flight to Sin City takes off next weekend.  Once I slap this short, tight, cut-down-to-there number on, you're going to have to rip it off me.  

All said and done, for the bargain price of $13.39, I am officially Stripper Fabulous. I'm going to take the remaining $11.61, slap it down on Red and hope for the best.  Wish me luck! 


1 comment:

Amanda said...

The real question is... Did you smell like stripper and a distillery combined? I dont think the man sitting next to me on my last flight home from Vegas will ever forget me. I like to "make my mark" wherever I go so doing it with the night before still seeping from my pores is, for me, par for the course, really. Hysterical UnPlain! Loves the blog!