Years ago I was fortunate enough to be able to attend an exciting and titillating performance by Thunder from Down Under. Thunder from Down Under is a male dance troupe whose primary purpose is to have very good looking and physically fit men gyrate and partially undress in front of a mob of screaming, adoring and seemingly sex-starved women (just reporting the general mentality – that certainly didn’t apply to me or my group).
Amazingly, my recall of that performance remains quite clear. The women at that show were animals (well, most of them – again, not my group, we were perfectly demure – at least as I recall it). About the time when the dancers entered the audience and started dancing on tables women started grabbing at them like they were a $100 cashmere sweater marked down to $5.99 at Macys. It was crazy – appalling – fascinating. One older woman (I’d guess her at 60ish) even took off her top (at the time I assumed she thought it would gain her additional favor with the dancers – now I realize she might have been having a hot flash).
At the conclusion of the performance I felt compelled to purchase a souvenir to remind me of this fun social outing with the girls – a Thunder from Down Under calendar. The calendar featured 12 of the gentlemen that dance with the troupe bare-chested giving seductive come hither looks (or maybe that is just what I saw).
I hung the calendar in a semi-secluded area in my office. Other women came to visit it regularly. Everyone had their favorite month and it wasn’t because it was the month of their birthday or anniversary. It really ended up being quite a hit and it did make the passage of time a tad more appealing.
About four months in I returned to my office to find a sticky note on the calendar from a colleague that said, “Did you know that the dates are wrong on this calendar?” My reply to her sticky note came in the form of another sticky note, “Dates? There are dates on this calendar?? Who knew?”
I transferred the sticky notes from month to month as time passed as a warning to others who may be relying on that portion of the calendar. Of course there isn’t much to do with a calendar that has imperfect dates than to keep using it until the dates are correct. That calendar earned its keep over the years even if it was never used for scheduling meetings.
So there you have it. Yes, I bought the calendar for the photos – it never even occurred to me that it had dates and I frankly I cared less about that part. I do not need to lie about it like some men like to do about magazines with scantily clad women. Everyone knows they are not buying the magazine to read the articles like they say – puh-lease…just own your weakness and move on. I am woman – hear me roar! I make no apologies for appreciating the performance art and undeniable outward beauty of the Thunder from Down Under dance troupe.
Thunder from Down Under now has a regular show in Las Vegas. I have made a mental note and I am waiting for some hardcore hot flashes to set in so that I can go to the show and have an excuse in case I take my top off. Plus, I could really use a new calendar.
Day seventy-six of the new forty – obla di obla da