I was never really into the club scene, or bars for that matter either, probably because wearing short skirts and dancing lustily were not my strong suits. No, most of my dates came from friend introductions and led to dinners where I attempted to impress the opposite sex with snarky remarks and sexual innuendos. That usually did the trick.
But now that I’m in a bikini competition no one gives a darn about my witty mind; it’s completely about how I move my body. Here’s the utter truth: I got no game.
In posing classes with Adela Garcia it became painfully apparent that I didn’t know how to rotate my hips, walk with elongated legs or thrust out my chest in general, let alone with 5” stripper heels. Adela told me, “Stick your ass out and make those heels your bitch.”
Um…but I’m from the suburbs…
Daniel told me to try dancing. So I went to Walmart (big shocker) and bought a Sizzling Salsa dancing DVD. Ever try to do a sizzling salsa exercise video when you have a 2 ½ year old in the house? I’m certainly not going to dress lasciviously in front of my children, so already my libido is reduced some by wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. Even though I try to do this while Little Henry takes a nap – (what a joke! Henry never naps! ) he still manages to come in front of the TV and either hug my legs or lifts my weights.
Plus, it just wasn’t carnal enough. So I returned to Walmart and purchased the more risqué Cardio Strip Tease DVD. I practiced the moves at 5 a.m. when everyone was sleeping… That helped.
It’s 9 p.m. and the children are sleeping. I’m in my bikini and hooker heels and Henri resides on the couch as I prance and pose in front of him.
“You know, this sport is really growing on me,” Henri says smiling a devilish grin.
Arching my back to accentuate my curves I slowly saunter over to him. Fixing my eyes in a stony stare I whisper, “If you knock me up before this competition, Traugott, I will end you.”
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