Last night was a gal pal's bachelorette party, and rather than do the whole (yawn) penis cake and whatnot, it was decided that we would instead go out for a nice dinner followed by drinks and oh yeah, let's not forget a burlesque show. So, gussied up we got, and hit the town.
Dinner was fun, drinks were tasty, and as we headed down to the cabaret, I wound up a few steps behind my companions. By the time we reached the bouncer (a lovely doll who wound up being the wildly entertaining final performer of the evening), I suppose it appeared that I could have been with that group of girls just ahead of me, or I could have been on my own.
The doll said something to me as I fumbled for my ID.
"Excuse me?"
"Are you with the show?"
"Hmm? Well, I'm here to see the show."
"Oh, then yeah, I need to see your ID please. With your hair and your makeup and your outfit, I thought you might have been one of the performers tonight. You look great!"
GUSH!
(After the show, I stopped for a moment to speak with the MC about a mutual acquaintance, and he, too, asked if I was a performer. Glee!)
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