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21 more things = 42

The last post was the 21 things I KNOW at 42. At the end I said I'd consider writing 21 more things to make it 42 in total & then ...

Monday

Surdee Night LIVE


So Surdee (Saturday for those of you too far North or West)....

It was my Girly Girl's birthday celebration. Earlier in the week, our mutual friend, Big Slim called me to tell me to anticipate the goodness of the celebration. See, Girly Girl's husband, being all good, understanding & accommodating decided to bring the thunder for his betrothed. He wants nothing more than Girly Girl's happiness. Translation: “call up the girls, I'm getting' Girly Girl a stripper for her birthday.” At this point I'm sounding all like Scooby Doo trying to understand what made Shaggy wanna do this for Velma. At the same time, I was SO SUPER IMPRESSED by Hubby's commitment to her birthday enjoyment. I was all in, if for no other reason than to bear witness to it all.

The preface is that hubby called up Girly Girl's bestest cousin to ask her what her type would be like in strippers. You know, the same way he might call up 1'a her homegirls to find out what her favorite food is while dating, only involving naked men. The usual. I think, if memory serves, Big Slim contributed the “company” name that provided said naked man, but cousin gave a type. As a matter of fact, cousin got real specific. Story at eleven.

So...

Saturday morning I spent lazing around to rest up for the unknown to go down. That afternoon I helped The Boy take his car to get serviced, took him to see my child so everyone could acknowledge her new co-ed status, having get-togethers & other such “WAIT, I'm not ready!” type madness. After that I barely had time to check if the summer day had had an effect on the strength of my anti-perspirant before being scooped by Big Slim. The day flew by way too fast.

The hubby told Girly Girl she was having the party bus experience for her birthday & that folks were starting at the house to get full off food & beverage. It was nothing that we were all gathered at the house rappin' about this & that over dried white fish (translation: overcooked) & Big Slim's bartending adventure. Casual times. Word had gotten back that the Naked Man had an engagement prior to Girly Girl's so he'd be a little late. The chill session went into its 4th inning & then Bestest Cousin started making a big deal about Girly Girl changing her clothes to get a little fly-er for her party bus. She went to the bedroom & reappeared all shimmer shine & 4 inches taller than her already long self. Hubby tells everybody to make it to the basement & all the women, minus the 1 with NO stomach for the likes of a man's personals, rally downstairs. We must've made it down too fast because the next thing I knew Girly Girl was looking at us suspiciously, wondering why we were sitting in a horseshoe. Educator that she is, she surmised that a performance was about to go down & I jokingly said an African dance troupe was about to come & give her the gift of the Watusi. I was trying to kill time.

Somebody buzzed by in the awkward silence & put a CD in the player & then Bestest Cousin produced a towel that she wrapped around Girly Girl's face. The lights magically dimmed & the music started, the beginning of the longest intro EVER. Girly Girl's face changed & she uttered “You Bitch!” to the cousin. The rest of us ever unaware were just waiting for Naked Man to make his way down the steps. Now, when you tell me a stripper is involved, I'm assuming it's a man wearing a little of something that he will eventually remove. NO! Naked Man came down the steps wearing a cowboy hat, some run over, low-heeled cowboy boots & a wave cap on his man junk. I'm uncomfortable & looking around I discovered that the other ladies were too. Three women gathered on 1 chair, holding tight to each other for their virtue, looking mesmerized & disgusted. I felt them. Did I mention I was uncomfortable? The towel was removed & Bestest Cousin begins to slink away but not before Girly Girl says, “If anybody gotta get the f&ck out, it's you, Bitch!” The cousin replied with love & dashed off to grab her camera & a good spot to snap flicks of this chicanery.

The show gets started, & Girly Girl's face morphed from stunned, caught out there, confused, to “eff it” & got involved. Naked Man's droppin it like it's hot, doin' the centipede with his tongue, movin his body like a snake ma, & performing mock sexual acts. Through my discomfort I was able to note that his package was unimpressive, lacking girth (despite it's interesting length), & thoroughly turned off by the black sheath/stocking cap it was gift wrapped in. In the end, I had my 1st (& probably only) experience being part of a stripper's act. I took 1 for the team for the sake of show continuity (no...really). I had a baby oil slick on my jeans as a souvenir. *greasy s.o.b.* A dude came downstairs with Naked Man & posted up on the wall, watching the show from a distance....but watching all the same. When the show was over, dude took the cowboy hat to pick up the 1's on the floor in thanks for his time. Naked Man thanked us all & proceeded back upstairs to get dressed, with his bill collector (couldn't help that 1) following closely behind his bare arse. Can you hear the questions running through my mind? Yeah. The 3 ladies in the chair scurried up behind Naked Man & his silent partner, leaving me, Big Slim & Girly Girl downstairs to ponder what had just gone down. Hubby came & busted that up, calling a family meeting in the bathroom with the wife. Big Slim & I observe in english & knew he was tryna reap the rewards of his gift, hoping to do The Grown Folks right quick. That was our cue to vacate the basement.

While this was all taking place there were other men at the house, keeping a safe distance upstairs. They were busy being schooled in what a man can &/or will do for his woman but making sure not to actually come in contact with another dude's business. Honestly, I've NEVER seen a dude willing to be in the room with another man's backside out, doing the ding-a-ling swing for IHOP money. The point is, the men stayed upstairs. When we all returned, the music came on & the shit talkin' commenced. A co-worker of Hubby's was there reminiscing on his days as a male dancer. He looked to be in his late 50's round about the alcoholic eyes. Later, his ID on the table, the number 45 came to shock us all. Hard livin.... This relic took a liking to me & decided I was the Lola Falana to his “not Sydney Poitier.” None of us understood what that meant & I just haven't cared enough since then to look up the connection. He spoke doo-wop with all kinds of wonderful isms that I'm sure to never hear again. He was talkin some nonsense & the young lady to his right went to cut him off. Relic hit her with, “sssshhhhh.....hush, puppy.” Game over.

As the children continued to talk, Big Slim & I found ourselves in the same corner of the kitchen as Girly Girl where she cleared up a few things we didn't realize we'd misunderstood. When Naked Man's music came on she knew exactly what was going down. Apparently, once upon a time she'd spent some time doin' The Grown Folks with the stripper, well before her husband. So, when Bestest Cousin was asked her type, she took the joke a little too far & got her someone that had actually been test driven. According to Girly Girl, while Naked Man was handling her, he was also congratulating her on her home & her marriage. WTF? Not knowing how to feel, I just started typing notes in my BlackBerry to be able to chronicle this mayhem because I couldn't have made this mess up. I'm still unclear who actually got a gift. Did Girly Girl get the gift of a loving & secure husband? Did Bestest Cousin get the gift of the ultimate [im]practical joke, or did Hubby get the gift of the flustered wife, willing to say “thank you” through the medium of his choosing? Or did EVERYBODY get played?

I can't call it. But I've got the pictures to prove it. They're Top Secret.
I love my friends. They never fail me for surprise or fun. I'm not positive things are ever truly safe with them, but I get off on [reasonable] danger so I guess we're all perfect for each other. It was only the 1 time Big Slim tried to give me to a security guard at a cabaret. She doesn't remember & I've forgiven her.

Watch me move.

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