Blue Balls For Sale!

I remember the first time I went to a strip club. It was magical. I was mesmerized. Scantily clad, beautiful women were all over the place. And, they were friendly. The smell of sensual sugar filled the air. Over priced alcohol was within arms reach. The music sucked. Is it too much to ask for some rock and roll with the nudity? I mean real rock and roll, not some 80’s decalcification of ZZ Top. Yes, I get it. The girl’s got legs. I would certainly hope so. Otherwise the song would have been called She’s Got a Wheelchair. But, I’m ruining the strip club fantasy mood. Sorry.

Before long, one of the hot babes asked me if I would like a dance. Not knowing the nomenclature at the time I re-posed the question and asked her if she wanted to dance with me. A friend clued me in as to what she was proposing. I accepted her offer for a dance. She took me to a semi-private room where other women were writhing on other patrons. She sat me on a cushy couch and stood in front of me. I felt a little shy at first (after all, it had been a while since I attended an orgy) – until she started rhythmically rubbing on me to the beat of plastic thumping bile resounding in the background. I forgot about the other couples in the room and focused all of my attention on her, on her excessively made over eyes, on her glittery skin, on her tickling locks of hair on my face, on her compound bouquet of lavender and cigarettes, on her naked boobies. She moved me. She was selfless. Her only concern was my satisfaction. She let me know this when I tried to return the favor by touching her, too, and she drove her fake nails into my neck. I was falling in lust. My nether regions commandeered of all my senses as they prepared to go into action, especially after my siren took to the grinding. Right when I was about to pass the point of no return - she stopped. She stood and put her hand out. So, I shook it. She asked for twenty dollars. What!? Are we done? That’s it? Twenty dollars for what?

“Twenty dollars for the lap dance, sport.”

But I wasn’t done. I’ve got some unresolved issues here, honey!!!

“Plus tip.”

Dumbfounded with mouth agape, I gave her thirty dollars. She grabbed my hand, helped me up and walked me back to the bar area where my friends waited with despicable grins. Before we parted ways, I stopped her and asked her, “So, let me get this straight. I just paid you thirty bucks to give me blue balls?”

“I never thought of it that way. I guess you’re right. You’re so funny. Bye-bye, sweetie.”

I wondered what she would have done to me for a hundred bucks - tap dance on my crotch and jam her boa up my ass?

Review: The Hourglass and the Poisoned Pen

Wonder Woman. Batwoman. The Bionic Woman. Buffy Summers. Elastigirl. Juliette Lewis. Isis. Lavagirl. She-Ra.

Face it, chick superheroines rock. And so do tap dancers.

So when I had a free evening on this most recent holiday weekend, I searched the entertainment listings for a show that might satisfy both my fetishes. And suddenly, as if Chicago Tap Theater had read my mind, I saw an ad for The Hourglass and the Poisoned Pen – the all new Superhero Tap Dance Opera currently playing at the Athenaeum Theater. I gathered up my credit card and the Mrs. and made my way to the next showing.

The theater building was cool, but the show was not in the main auditorium. In fact, after purchasing our tickets we were directed upstairs to the third floor – Studio 3. Awesome. When the doors opened it was just the type of theater that I love. Probably no more than 80 seats, some of them ripped and repaired with duct tape and others missing arm rests. A simple plywood stage in front and one large panel featuring our heroine as the set. The director/dancer/co-writer/choreographer/board member came out for the intro telling us to have fun, cheer for the good guys (or bad guys), boo the bad guys (or the good guys), and be thankful you weren’t at the Jonas Brothers show.

What is a superhero tap dance opera you ask? Well, just enough background and plot lines are flashed on the background of the set so you can read along as you would a comic book. But instead of looking at drawings similar to those that filled the notebook of that fat kid you knew in junior high, you had some bad-ass tap dancers bringing the action to life.

You see, sweet Elizabeth loved working in her father’s clock and watch shop until he was killed during a brutal robbery, at which time she received the special power to slow down time. With the encouragement of Daphne, her wacky friend and comic book store proprietor, she decided she needed to fulfill the obligation to use her powers for good over the evil lurking in her town. Elizabeth, after receiving a gift from Daphne containing her superheroine costume of a blue suit, fishnets and yellow tapdancing go-go boots, transforms into The Hourglass, while Daphne captured my heart with her transformation into The Secondhand and her Chuck Taylor tapshoes. Does it get any cooler than that? Hell no.

The rest of the evening was a series of tap dance scenes covering everything from tap dancing muggers to tap dancing street fights to tap dancing workplace skullduggery and general tap vigilante justice.

So if you’re in Chicago, check it out. If not, I feel bad. Unless you’re in New York – they’ve been invited to some theater festival out there later this year, so you can experience the same. As for me, I’ll be super-glueing some taps on my own Chuck Taylors and filling out my application for the Justice Legs of America.