Suburban Housewives Get in Touch With Their Inner Strippers, er, Exotic Dancers

I understand the desire for sisterhood. Back in Aurora, I spent every Wednesday , my day off, morning chatting with my friend Gretchen for hours over breakfast and coffee. (Gretchen, I can't begin to tell you how much I miss those days!) I've spent a weekend in Paris with a group of gals from Digby. I've gotten together with "the girls" at quilting and bunco groups. In my younger days I attended Tupperware and Avon parties, which have given way to PartyLite and Pampered Chef parties in the last decade or so.

Am I really so out-of-it that I've only just now heard of pole dancing party craze? (Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like.) I consider myself pretty liberal-minded and am open to new experiences, but I think I'll have to pass if I'm invited to one of these. (Especially if the invite is from a co-worker. Egads!) Sure, I'll gladly come to your house and buy candles, kitchen gadgets, plastic storage containers, and makeup in exchange for some noshes and fellowship, but I don't think I'm prepared to buy feathered boas and sequined pumps for same.

Go ahead, call me a prude. I double-dog dare you.

Cheers,
Barb