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hello world, my name is regine tate and i'm alive!
after leaving from my visit with my dear friend hunter nichols last month [who i'm sure was rather grateful to see me go as i had been denying him meals after a few snappish remarks], i returned home to a pissed off director/screenwriter who insisted that i begin taking pole dancing lessons as preparation for a future film role. not wanting to upset him, i promptly signed up for a couple of sessions at my friendly neighborhood strip club. this was all dine and fandy. i even bought this precious little black corset with a matching bottom to get into character. a+, right?
so i get there on a monday to meet my instructor, who insists that i refer to her as "aphrodite." i strip down into my cute little underthings and she gets me started. hey, this striptease thing is easier than i thought it would be. yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker. we've got some ac/dc on and i'm starting the pole work. and then i ever so gracefully fall off of the pole and hit the side of a marble counter just right on my elbow.
"ow," i say.
"holy shit," says aphrodite.
"what?" i say.
"you fell off of the pole," says aphrodite.
"no shit, sherlock," i say. i am quite the trooper and insist on getting the studio's money's worth for the lesson, despite the fact that my elbow is bent at an extremely odd angle for a human elbow to be bent at, and my knees are scraped up like a four-year-old's.
"i'm taking you to the emergency room," she says, and scoops me up and takes me out. (pole dancing must be a damn good work out, she was probably 5'3" and a buck ten? maybe? this is not counting her tits, but i am pretty sure that they are tax-deductible and therefore do not count)
"fuck you, aphrodite," i say as she takes me out into the sun in my black lingerie. subsequently, all of new york city's shameless paparazzi crawled out of the woodwork to photograph me in my scantily clad glory as some stripper who had enough silicone in her chest to sink the titanic dragged me to the hospital.
it turns out that i broke my elbow, and in just the right place to make me think about possibly insuring it in the future. i now have three highly expensive jewelry screws pinning a tiny fragment of a bone back in place somewhere in there, and after several weeks off work i still can't lift anything above my nose. on the upside, i've been doing a lot of writing in recent weeks so i can get that nagging screenplay out of the way. on the downside, i will probably not be presented with another opportunity to wear that corset again anytime soon. not to mention the copious gossip rag headlines proclaiming that i have a hot new girlfriend who likes long walks on the beach and exotic dance.
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