Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Damned with faint praise

Actual conversation I had Friday night after my bellydance performance:

Stranger in the women's bathroom: Hey, you were great up there!

Me: Thanks!

SITWB: So are you a beginner?

Me: (Only if you consider 4+ years of weekly classes a beginner.) Er, to this studio! Sort of.


Not my best showing, to be honest. Sigh. I did however figure out how to make curlers work with my hair, knowledge that would've made life so much more bearable when I was in elementary school. (Like most things, it comes down to proper product) So I was all done up, complete with false eyelashes and body glitter, not unlike a drag queen. That part was fun at least.

The bright spot was that there was a neighborhood cat who kept coming over to see what the fuss was about and ended up on stage a couple of times. Very cute.

And, speaking of cats, I was at Shisha, an Arabic falafel joint that has, you guessed it, shisha last night. They now have all sorts of flavored tobacco. Back in my day, we had to take apple or nothing; now they have everything up to and including margarita and cosmopolitan flavors.

They also had a sweet little orange and white kitty sitting outside, meowing at people as they went by. I had to cool my heels a few minutes waiting for my takeout and I spent them getting increasingly nervous that a cat was lost and vainly asking for help. So I pulled the manager aside and asked him if he knew about the cat. He chuckled and said yes. Apparently the kitty's been there for about four months and has taken up residence outside the restaurant. They feed it all sorts of treats, but the manager told me the cat's favorites are chicken and milk. Now that is a pretty good set-up. If it wasn't for having to have a job and, you know, somewhere to wash my hair, I could think of worse places to live than outside a friendly shisha joint.


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