Pole Dancing Is Not A Crime! (6938-6939)

Last night I hosted the Vertical Fusion staff appreciation party at my house. We could have done it at the studio, but it is easier to serve dinner when there is a kitchen nearby.


As always, it is a blast having everyone over and it is hard to imagine how much Lemony has accomplished in a short 20 months: three studios and a growing team of instructors and staff who are dedicated to her vision of inclusive and empowering dance for everyone.


Everyone gathered around the pole to assume the Idol position. Each one of us climbed to the top (or got hoisted by Alexis) and got to be in the center of an admiring crowd.


While everyone else was eating dessert like normal people, Dr. Ken was exercising and messing around. My boys do that thing with the transom all the time, BTW.


I go into high gear when I have people over for dinner. I like to whisk away plates as soon as someone is done. STACKING OPPORTUNITY!

Joe made it sound like I was telling people to hurry up and go home. What? No!

I’ve actually heard this before. But it isn’t the case! I just want to clear the dishes and get them in the dishwasher fast so I can relax knowing that I won’t wake up to a colossal mess in the morning.

And once dinner was over, I could tag out to the Norwegian Nanny who has a very dirty mind when it comes to desserts. You can take your paleo, gluten free, vegan, low glycemic index and shove it!

And everyone who knows me knows that I am a compulsive tidier and stacker. It’s like a tic. You are going to have to love me, warts and all.


Alarming “lees” in the bag of wine.


David has joined the crew to add a little more shirtless man-candy to my parties. We can always use more. And let me just say, Ken has never looked better.


We’re having major pole issues. I didn’t have the right pieces to put mine back up (I lent some pieces to the studio) and somehow we left half the x-stage plates at the Biergarten. Fuck.

That didn’t stop people from playing around on perhaps the sketchiest pole set-up ever.

How ironic that with a group of people that must have 40 poles between them, we couldn’t get a single one set up.


Shé coined a new term, Pole Hickey! Ken’s got one!

Lucky me, Shé’s going to show up tomorrow to help me swap offices! She said she’d wear her sexy maid costume, too. If I was good, she’d bust out the sexy cop outfit. Lucky you!


Lemony had everyone write notes to each other on poster board. I seize up at this kind of thing, especially since I’d been drinking and was very distracted.


I wrote this unbelievably stupid note on someone’s board, I can’t remember who. Apparently I had trouble remember who it was for at that moment as well.


And Lemony, to whom I have much to say to, got this beautiful note. I couldn’t even spell my name.


I admire her beautiful lances? knees? dances? I decided to write the notes later lest I appear too flippant.


I wasn’t the only one suffering from performance anxiety. We decided it was easier to write on Lemony’s boobs.


Deep thoughts, yo. I wrote the Heart U lip/mountain, butthole thing.


The truth was, I can’t do good work when I am distracted and Lemony’s boobs were distracting me. So were the Norwegian Nanny’s double chocolate chocolate chip cookies which go great with Reddiwhip.

I can’t work under these conditions!

I truly believe that Lemony will endure just about anything for us. Being the mother of four does build stamina for coping with childish behavior.


She put together a beautiful slide show and gave a lovely speech. We watched the clock to see how long it would take for her to start crying:  one minute and fifty-two seconds! Then she flipped us off for laughing at her. We have an unusual, but genuine, language of love.

As the night wore on, people just got louder and I was a little concerned about my third floor person minding the noise. We have a whole floor between us, but sound carries unfortunately well.

Around midnight there came a knock at the door and there were three cops on my porch shining their flashlights into my house.

Oh shit. My tenant called the cops on me!

Either that or Justache showed up in his dad’s uniform and was going to surprise me with that sexy dance I’ve been hinting at!

No such luck.

No such luck.

Of course I had to step outside. Why do they insist on doing that? I was ready to get all POLE DANCING IS NOT A CRIME! when they told me to calm down, I wasn’t in trouble.

They got a 911 call from someone on a mobile phone in the area who threatened to kill himself and then hung up. They said that it sounded like there was a party going on so they were checking out all the parties in the area and we appeared to have the only one.

I assured them that this was a private party and there weren’t any random blood soaked suicidal men hanging out. If there were, we would have noticed.

I must admit, my parties do look like a lot of fun, even if they are just us loafing around and watching Ken work out on the scariest pole ever.

Kris represented by showing off an enviable straddle spin.

Then I made a video with Christine after perhaps too much boxed wine. She was pretty impressed with my money saving techniques and insisted on creating a little infomercial on the spot.

I still question whether posting this is a good idea. Aside from the double entendres, it’s pretty tame, but boy do I look d.r.u.n.k.  Good thing I have no ambitions that might warrant some kind of spotless background.

Everyone left after I shut the pole down at around 1am.

Between it looking like the pole was going to topple over (and I don’t think enough time has passed for me to hit up Wu for another quickie suture job), the cops and sudden overwhelming anxiety about my tenants, I was ready to pack it in.

Lonny and I unloaded dishes, reloaded and went to bed.

I woke up not exactly hungover but in a weakened condition. I don’t care what anyone says, there is nothing like waking up to a, if not clean, not completely trashed house the morning after a big party. Lonny is so great to have on my team.

The stupid dog wanted a walk and I was too tired to muster much of a response when a woman walking a Corgi said, “Do you have a saddle for that horse?” I was all, “Aha.   Ha ha.   ha.”

Time to cut the crap.


A floor sweeper that I have never used but inexplicably keep around because it seems like a good idea. DONATE.


Someone left it at the party. I’m putting it up here incase you want to claim it. Doesn’t count.

2 thoughts on “Pole Dancing Is Not A Crime! (6938-6939)

  1. When we walked home, the cops stopped us and were all “So we have to ask – what’s up with the pole??”. They sounded a bit envious when I said it was the holiday staff party of a pole dancing studio.

    • Oh my God. Seriously?

      I love the “What’s up with the pole” question. I get the exact same wording all the time. What do they expect to hear other than, “I pole dance.”

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