Poling in Love for the First Time…

“I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m happy.” This is what I say to myself as I face the bathroom mirror every morning. My psychology professor back in college calls it conditioning. Telling yourself something that you want to believe and you want to happen. So each morning as I open my eyes, I smile, take a deep breath and chant..”I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m happy”.  Then I’d listen to some happy upbeat music like “I’m walkin on sunshine by Katrina and the waves, “I’ve got you (I Feel Good ) by James Brown, Three Little Birds by Bob Marley..dance to it a little, and voila…I’m okay. Works wonders. Being preoccupied with tons of stuff makes me happy now. And to complete that happiness, I’ve written a long to do list. Learn a new language, done. Cut my hair short, done. Slim down, done. Do something new just for the heck of it, hmm, done.

I took pole dancing lessons.

At first the thought made me laugh. But doing something new is part of my long list. And oh well, this is something new. I’m a dancer though, I dance ballroom and hip hop. Okay, dancing is not the problem. But the pole part was. I tried it not to aspire as dancer in Vegas with feathers on my head as a new career, but to put my mind away from bad vibrations. And I tell you..swinging, whirling and bending by a pole would really take your mind out of all those negative things.

Well of course the first day was a nightmare. I was like mobbed and badly beaten by ten guys at the same time. I had to take a day off from work. My house help had to get me up to go to the bathroom and pee. Well, I’m kidding of course. But honestly, I thought the bones in my body broke. After two days, I went back (with a pack of Salonpas strips ready)and bended my way to death. The pain never returned. I even made new friends. There was this gay guy who took the lessons for the reason of satisfying his partner. I didn’t ask how. Just use your imagination. This 52 year old grandmother who still thinks she’s gonna end up with some foreign guy. She even brags about an Arab she met in a chatroom called gimme some lovin. My jaw dropped for three seconds when she told me about it, but immediately recovered with my classic oh-that’s- interesting-I should-try-that-one-too facial expression then walked away.

All of us had different reasons for trying this one out. But mine was plain and simple. I’m doing it to grow, improve my figure, strengthen my muscles, and become more flexible . I’m doing it for myself and not for someone else. The worse thing about doing something for someone is that you wouldn’t know till it’s enough, you wouldn’t know when to stop. You’ll be drained on figuring out : will this make me get the guy? will this make him happy? Or maybe I need to bend little bit more. That’s pathetic. You bend yourself to death for someone who doesn’t even know you exist.  

When our instructor was introducing a new move everybody was excited. But when she demonstrated the routine, everybody was shocked. I bit my tongue then swallowed hard. She jumped right to the pole, gripped the pole with her thighs bended her body while sticking out her arm then slid down. “and we’re suppose to do THAT?”, the gay guy exclaimed. “Yes, and you’re up”. I thought he couldn’t do it. But then he took two steps back whipped his imaginary long hair and jumped, gripped, bended and slide. APPLAUSE. Then granny was next. She tried to put her whole body up to the pole, gripped it with her thighs, and every time she tried she would just slip like a fireman on an emergency call, except there were no sirens. She gave up. “Make love to the pole”, our instructor yelled. “Make love to the pole”. But what granny did was hump the pole, and thrust back and forth with a porn star’s facial expression. Everybody laughed. I almost threw up. Then it was my turn. Okay Anne, baby you can do it…I was thinking hard..just jump, grip, bend and slide, just freakin’ get this over with….then you’re off to Ilocos…Pagudpod on March…wow, I need to get this done so I can start my swimming lessons, then get a tattoo…then..”Anne, you’re up”. “Oh, okay..” Jump, grip, bend and slide…”Anne…””yeah, I’m on it…” jump, grip, bend and slide…”Anne, think of the one you truly love like he came home and he’s lifting you high”, my instructor barked.”Okay”. It’s not helping. I’ve fallen in love and got hurt several times, you readers know that. No one’s coming home. Or if they did come back I’d post a sign just outside the door saying: Model House Only. No trespassing. Nakamamatay. Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again. Can I just think of something else, like there’s a really big flood and I’m hanging by a coconut tree bend and stick out my arm until the AFP finds me? ”Anne, think of that man you want to live with for the rest of your life”. Why is it always about a man? “The pole is the man”. Really…can I just bend him then and throw him away?

Anyway, I tried…okay green fields…white flowing dress…the man of my dreams…we’re running towards each other…like a movie scene…jump and grip…put my arms around him…this is easy…bend…he’s holding my waist as he turns me around…extend your arms….slipped. “Ouch”. I saw myself sitting on the floor with the pole between my knees. “Anne, don’t hold him too tight or he’ll let you go and then you’ll lose your grip…that’s why you slipped. Is she talking about pole dancing or my ex-boyfriend? ”You should concentrate before starting your jump, don’t put your whole weight on the pole. You should carry yourself up. Enjoy the position, that’s why we’re bending and extending our arms. Then we slide. Done”. Oh now she’s starting to sound like a chef, mince the garlic, sauté, salt and pepper to taste, done. “ANNE, focus!” She just can’t shut up, can she? She talks as if it’s that easy. But it was actually easier the second time. And I did it.

As the session ended my instructor asked me with a sheepish smile, “What’s his name?” ”Huh? Who?”, I asked back. “The guy you were imagining lifting you when you tried the second time, your eyes were closed, you know.” “Oh, that! His name is, um, COCO”, I replied then left. Of course I didn’t think of a man. Why would I do that, I’d lose my grip. I thought of the flood instead.