Story Time
I was hot, I was sweaty and I wasn't wearing clothes I was particularly comfortable in. Standing on the platform moving to the thumping beats and strange electronic blips and blares I looked over the crowd with glassy bored eyes. Fists pumping in the air, boys and girls, boys and boys, girls and girls grinding their front ends and back ends on each other.
"You're so hot."
My eyes refocused and I looked down. There was a man, or maybe a boy, he was staring up my plaid school girl inspired skirt. I didn't care, I had flesh colored dance shorts on and nude capezio fishnets over them. I peered through the platform boots they made me wear to see if I could see his face. A bright pink light shined on me blinding me for a moment and then creating starbursts it continued to pass over the crowd.
"I SAID YOU'RE SO HOT!"
He shouted as if I hadn't heard him the first time. He didn't know I stood in the quiet zone, the space between two speakers where the sounds waves bounce off each other and create a bubble of non-deafening sound. I smiled and kept moving my body, mind still disconnected.
"I work for Marvel."
He had my interest now.
I was never a comic book geek, I didn't like them, didn't understand them. I had read the Watchmen and other graphic novels but the comics, women drawn to impossible proportions, often needing assistance from men, even if they were super heroes, I had no interest.
"I'm recruiting for ComicCon!"
I crouched down still moving, imitating a stripper with my legs splayed, bouncing to the beat arching my back and making sure it didn't look like I was slouching on the job. He reached up to hand me his card. Juan my bouncer stood between us barking the no touching rule over and over until the man or boy moved to a safe distance.
It was rare for me to connect with a patron. I didn't like them, I stood above them, literally and in my mind as well. I was paid to show up and dance, they paid to show up and dance. I had been working clubs as a go-go dancer for a month or so now and my mother hated it. I wouldn't be doing it much longer but I didn't know that at the time. The money was good and I could still go to school full time. I gestured for 15 minutes mouthing the words with my hands.
When 15 minutes had passed I asked Juan to lift me down so I could take my smoke break. You only got real breaks if you smoked, I'm pretty sure that's how I picked up the habit. I took my over sized escort with me to the side door and lit up. The man found me as he rounded the corner from the GP (general population) exit. Dancers, bartenders and bouncers had their own exit. We were often escorted to waiting cabs or cars with significant others. Carrying large amounts of cash in our pockets and a nights worth of sweat and makeup on our faces and bodies. This is where I first learned to apply makeup like a drag queen and hoist the girls to epic proportions. The man boy approached me and handed over his card. He was either a Marvel rep or a really good bullshit artist. I promised to call him the next day to come down to the offices for a once over and perhaps a fitting....
I stood in the convention center wearing a gross amount of latex and leather. My new name was Kitty Pride but I could answer to Shadow Kat as well. I was now an X woman or better yet an X-Man, we all were X-Men those with the XY and those with the XX, we were all men for the day. The masses approached me, they wanted my photo, they wanted to touch my ass, they wanted me to comment on their home made or well produced costumes. They wanted to know details about me (Kitty Pride) which I had no idea of and no way to answer. I smiled, I removed hands from my ass, I looked blankly into their eyes and smiled my fallback seduction smile.
Today my name is not Kitty Pride but the guys I date still get a kick over my once assumed identity.
"You're so hot."
My eyes refocused and I looked down. There was a man, or maybe a boy, he was staring up my plaid school girl inspired skirt. I didn't care, I had flesh colored dance shorts on and nude capezio fishnets over them. I peered through the platform boots they made me wear to see if I could see his face. A bright pink light shined on me blinding me for a moment and then creating starbursts it continued to pass over the crowd.
"I SAID YOU'RE SO HOT!"
He shouted as if I hadn't heard him the first time. He didn't know I stood in the quiet zone, the space between two speakers where the sounds waves bounce off each other and create a bubble of non-deafening sound. I smiled and kept moving my body, mind still disconnected.
"I work for Marvel."
He had my interest now.
I was never a comic book geek, I didn't like them, didn't understand them. I had read the Watchmen and other graphic novels but the comics, women drawn to impossible proportions, often needing assistance from men, even if they were super heroes, I had no interest.
"I'm recruiting for ComicCon!"
I crouched down still moving, imitating a stripper with my legs splayed, bouncing to the beat arching my back and making sure it didn't look like I was slouching on the job. He reached up to hand me his card. Juan my bouncer stood between us barking the no touching rule over and over until the man or boy moved to a safe distance.
It was rare for me to connect with a patron. I didn't like them, I stood above them, literally and in my mind as well. I was paid to show up and dance, they paid to show up and dance. I had been working clubs as a go-go dancer for a month or so now and my mother hated it. I wouldn't be doing it much longer but I didn't know that at the time. The money was good and I could still go to school full time. I gestured for 15 minutes mouthing the words with my hands.
When 15 minutes had passed I asked Juan to lift me down so I could take my smoke break. You only got real breaks if you smoked, I'm pretty sure that's how I picked up the habit. I took my over sized escort with me to the side door and lit up. The man found me as he rounded the corner from the GP (general population) exit. Dancers, bartenders and bouncers had their own exit. We were often escorted to waiting cabs or cars with significant others. Carrying large amounts of cash in our pockets and a nights worth of sweat and makeup on our faces and bodies. This is where I first learned to apply makeup like a drag queen and hoist the girls to epic proportions. The man boy approached me and handed over his card. He was either a Marvel rep or a really good bullshit artist. I promised to call him the next day to come down to the offices for a once over and perhaps a fitting....
I stood in the convention center wearing a gross amount of latex and leather. My new name was Kitty Pride but I could answer to Shadow Kat as well. I was now an X woman or better yet an X-Man, we all were X-Men those with the XY and those with the XX, we were all men for the day. The masses approached me, they wanted my photo, they wanted to touch my ass, they wanted me to comment on their home made or well produced costumes. They wanted to know details about me (Kitty Pride) which I had no idea of and no way to answer. I smiled, I removed hands from my ass, I looked blankly into their eyes and smiled my fallback seduction smile.
Today my name is not Kitty Pride but the guys I date still get a kick over my once assumed identity.