Thursday, January 6, 2011

Denied at the stripper store

There’s time before the next session, so the girls all rush up to Command Central, aka my and Kim’s room, so that we can use the interwebs to find a solution for Cori. Being a Philly native of sorts – ahem, having gone to Wharton for my MBA – I recall that South Street is a bastion of all things bizarre and eclectic, and if there are going to be any slutty nurse outfits anywhere, it would be there. Sure enough….

Cori: Great, I called this place and they’re open until 5PM – let’s hit it, ladies!

One contingent branches out to hit South Street, while another one decides to stay and listen to the seminar “So Cancer Has Caused You to Forget how to Put Makeup On.” The suspense is at a fever pitch…

On South Street

Cori is standing in front of the erstwhile stripper store, and sure enough, there are stripper outfits galore in the window. Victory! But wait, what’s this? The door is locked. Hmm.

Cori: Okay, let’s go down the street and check out what else is around here – hey, is that a condom store? The store person here probably just went in the back to go to the bathroom or something, and locked the door.

The girls explore all the wonders that South Street has to offer and then Cori makes the fateful call.

Cori, calling the stripper store: Umm, hi, I was just at your store? And the door was locked, but I called earlier and the person said you guys were open. Are you?

Stripper store person: Yes, we’re open until 5PM. But you have to dance.

Cori: Dance? Umm, okay, sure. We’ll be there soon.

Dance? Cori figures, as do the rest of us, that this is some weird deal they have where you have to dance to get in, prove yourself worthy or something, in some bizarre South St. tradition. She decides she’s up to the challenge.

Cori, knocking on the door of the stripper store: Helloooooo?! Are you open?

A guy comes up to the door, unlocks it, and peers out at Cori.

Stripper store guy, coldly: Yes?

Cori: Hi, I’m the person who just called, to look at your merchandise? You are open, right?

SSG: We are, but by appointment only. And we’re not taking appointments…..(he looks her up and down)….today.

And he proceeds to close the door in Cori’s face…..and lock it.

Yes, denied. Not just denied, but turned away in spectacularly humiliating fashion, in front of all the denizens of South St. The outrage among the girls is palpable. What, Cori doesn’t look enough like a stripper?? What the hell?

Meanwhile, back at the conference….

The “How to Put On Your Makeup Such That You Look Like a Clown” seminar is over, and the girls have gathered back in the big ballroom for the closing remarks. There’s been an exhortation to get up and dance, and other bizarrely jiggy stuff, and now it’s time for what we are all referring to as the Kumbaya Moment – where everyone is sitting at their tables holding hands, contemplating their place in the world and what they’ve learned along this Incredible Journey that is The Cancer. The room is hushed, except for a few sobs here and there, as people are overcome with the emotion of the moment. Patti has put her iPhone on the table in front of her, and amidst this reverent hush, suddenly there’s the distinctive “ptoodoolooh” sound indicating that she’s gotten a message, which all the girls sitting on her side of the table can see:

“Cori got denied at the stripper store!”

Now, I’m not quite sure if the snorting uproarious laughter that followed is enough to get all of us blackballed from the conference next year, but well……if it is, it was worth it.

That evening

Cori is devastated at her inability to get a simple fricking slutty nurse outfit in the entire burg of Philly, and so, as we all try to console her, she takes to drink again and mumbling about how we all need to take The Man down, i.e. the asshole who shut the door in her face at the stripper store.

Cori: What, like my Boobages aren’t good enough?? Look at these puppies! Just look at them!! Some of Dr. Fine’s best work! I mean really, what the hell?? I’ll sue, that’s it, I’ll sue! Mental distress to the Boobages!

This sounds to all of us like a fine idea, though this could also be the alcohol talking. Who can say?

The next morning

We’re cleaning up the hotel room, and as I peek in the fridge, what do I find? Eggnog! The magic elixir that I had bought at RTM yesterday, and totally forgot about! Yum.

Kim: Eggnog? Where’d you get that?

Me: Oh, I bought it at Reading Terminal Market yesterday, from the Amish-looking folks at that one end selling the juices and milk products. Omg, this is the best eggnog I’ve ever had.

Kim: I thought you were boycotting the Amish?

Me: Did I say they were Amish? I misspoke. With all the black they were wearing, I’m pretty sure they were……Hassidic Jews. Yes, that’s it – I think the Hassidic Jews are known for their fine eggnog, no?

I really don’t know why the girls look at me so strangely at times – really, it’s a puzzle….


Lisa said...

Why the HELL wasn't I in Philly for this???

Beth said...

LOL!!! It is still just as funny now hearing you tell it! LOL!!!

Roadie in Vancouver said...

Hi, I'm a frequent visitor to your site, eh! Now, it's nice that you have well-endowed ladies in their bras and all, but we are looking for triathlon training secrets, eh! Is there training going on here, eh?

writingonrainbows said...

I am so so super late on this, but thought the story was hilariously entertaining. The store you are referring to is a store for women "in the industry"... Strip clubs will make appointments for their dancers to go to that store because it is discreet and sells higher quality gear that dancers won't have falling apart on stage. When he said "you have to dance" he meant you have to be an exotic dancer. LOL. So sorry that he gave you the cold shoulder, he is usually so nice to we in the business! I think he requires appointments because visitors to the area assume that it's a novelty store like Condom Kingdom and the Mood and Lady Love and those, when in fact it's a store for exotic dancers and club workers. :)