A while back I was talking with Angella about God and faith and prayers. It was an uplifting, inspirational conversation until I managed to turn it into a conversation about male strippers and “pulsating packages.”

I then proceeded to tell her about my first and ONLY experience with a male stripper. I had planned on writing about it here, but of course, I got sidetracked and forgot all about it. Lucky for everyone, my memory was refreshed last week while watching Hot Carpenter parading around in his “elf” costume.

I used to work for an afternoon school program through a local school district. For the most part, all of the women that I worked with were in the 40’s or older. So, when they told me that they had hired a stripper for our annual “in someone’s home” Christmas party, I was a little… surprised? I had never seen a male stripper before and honestly, I had no desire to see one. I don’t know, the idea of watching a mostly naked man grinding his junk all over the place doesn’t turn me. In fact, it kind of scares me. I don’t know, while I loves me some sessual relations, random thrusting dicks aren’t really “my thang.”

I expressed my concerns to the woman who had hired the stripper.

“It’s not going to be anything nasty, Y.” she assured me. “I’ve made arrangements for it to be good, clean fun. He’ll only strip down to his boxers.” She specifically said “Boxers” which led me to believe that it was going to be totally tame and pg-rated. I mean, it HAD to be as I worked with a bunch of prudes. Or at least I THOUGHT I DID. But more on that later.

I wasn’t sure how PigHunter would feel about me going to a party with a male stripper, but he’s such an easy going person I wasn’t too worried.

“Hey baby. There’s going to be a male stripper at our Christmas party this year, are you ok with that?”

“WHAT!!??THE? HELL?@ WHAT?”

“Um, they’re going to have a male stripper at our party this year, BUT! It’s going to be totally innocent, he’s only going to strip down to his BOXERS! Seriously! He’s not even going to wear a thong! They’ll probably just be cute little boxers with Christmas trees on them! And babe, I work with older woman, so nothing crazy will happen. BOXERS!!”

He laughed and was all “I don’t care, have fun.”

For the record, you have to know that I completely believed the whole “he’s just going to strip down to his boxers! It will be good, clean fun!” COMPLETELY BELIEVED IT.

The night of the party finally had arrived. I kissed my husband goodbye and he made some joke about the stripper and I was all “Babe! Seriously! ONLY DOWN TO HIS BOXERS! Do not worry!”

I arrived at the party and the ladies were all riled up about the stripper who was only going to strip down to his precious little boxers. We ate finger sandwiches, sipped on that nasty punch/7up drink as we wondered what he would look like and who would be brave enough to sit in the front row. After about an hour, the door bell rang.
“Oh my God! He’s here!” The ladies squeed.

Linda, the hostess who was in her 50’s, asked me to go with her to answer the door. “Why not?” I thought, and accompanied her to greet The Stripper. “You open it!” She said to me, all nervous like. And so, I opened the door. My mouth dropped and I didn’t say a word because “OH MY GOD IT’S RICO SUAVE IN A SANTA COSTUME.”

And also? “OH MY GOD RICO SUAVE SANTA BROUGHT A LITTLE ELF WITH HIM.”

I can’t really explain why I was so shocked. That’s a lie. Yes I can. I was shocked because I had imagined what this Innocent Stripper was going to look like and the picture I had painted of him did not look anything at all like Gerardo.

I finally was able to compose myself enough to say hello and let him in.
As soon as he made his way in, I ran back to the living room where all the of “Wimmins who work with Children” were nervously waiting for him to inform them that “OH MY GOD HE LOOKS LIKE GERARDO AND HE BROUGHT AN ELF!”

The Hostess walked in and told everyone to take their seats as Stripper Santa would be making his appearance shortly. There was a mad rush of women who ran to the back of the room. I was tempted to start knocking bitches to the floor so that I could grab one of the back row seats. After seeing Rico Suave Santa, I was preeeeetty sure he wasn’t going to be stripping down to “boxers!only!” and really didn’t want to be in the front row for the unveiling of that particular package. However, I remained calm and decided to wait until everyone had a seat to find my place. Of course, I ended up on a folding chair in the “front row.”

I was terrified for several reasons. I had never seen a stripper live and in person nor did I have any desire to see a stripper live and in person. What if he started grinding in front of me? What if his “Christmas Package” accidentally brushed up against my leg? HOW WOULD I DEAL WITH THAT? Would I cry? Would I laugh? Would I want to kick it? Would I want to pet it?

Once everyone was seated, the hostess came out and was all “Ladies, are you ready for a little fun?” Most of the women were just as uncomfortable as I was, so everyone was kind of like “um, yes?” Except for one of the older ladies who I will refer to as “Marmen.” Marmen waved her Horny Flag high in the sky in the form of dollar bills and was all “WHOOOOOO! I”m READY!!”

The hostess took her seat and suddenly, a Little Person in an elf suit appeared holding a boom box on his shoulder. I hit the woman next to me and was all “I TOLD you there was an elf!” He ran around in the little space in the middle of the room trying to get the “crowd” pumped up. There aren’t any words to properly convey how mortified I felt in that moment. I put my head down, trying not to lose it because AN ELF RUNNING AROUND ASKING IF WE’RE READY TO WATCH RICO SUAVE SANTA GET TAKE HIS CLOTHES OFF. HA HA HA HA HAAHAA”

He pushed play on the boombox and BOOYAH! Rico Suave Santa appeared in all of his wavy haired, chiseled body glory.
I wish I could remember the song that was playing as he started bumping and grinding, but for the life of me I can’t. I am pretty sure it’s because I went deaf and numb in that moment in anticipation of what was about to happen before my eyes. In fact, I’m getting all red with embarrassment as I type this. It was THAT bad.

Lil Elf was moving and grooving in the background as R.S. Santa began unbuttoning his Santa top. Marmen went nuts.
“WOO, BABY!” She shouted. He threw his shirt to the ground, walked over to her and began doing that move that strippers do where they do that wave with their body that starts with the head and travels down to their legs. Do you know what I’m talking about? If I could find my Flip cam, I’d totally re-enact it for you. That’s how much I love you.

It didn’t take long before the pants came off.
OH!
MY!
GOD!
NOT boxers.
Thong.
Bulge.
Ass.
Smooth.
BULGE.
ASSSSSSSSSSSS.

The older women in the room went ceraaaaazy. There was hootin’ and hollerin’ and woo’s! and hoo’s! and dollar bills! And then… there was me. With my head in my hands, praying to the Lord. “Jesus, please do not let him come near me with all of that hanging out all over the place.”

I lifted my head long enough to watch Rico Suave grinding his way towards me. I began to panic. Dear God, let him turn. Let him TURN. LET HIM TURN.

He didn’t turn.

As he got closer to me, I panicked. I put my hand up in that “Stop in the Name of Love” manner and said “NO!” He looked at me all “WTF, bitch?” And I looked at him all “I don’t want your jirating junk near my leg, asshole!”
It was totally awkward and I felt like an asshole but then Marmen came to rescue. “Get over here, Sexy.” She screamed. He backed up into her lap, laid back and started grinding her leg. Marmen loved it so much that she reached over and began TO RUB! HIS! NIPPLES! Rico Suave liked to have his nipples rubbed and I know this because well, ha ha you know. BONER! The lady next to me screamed “ewww” while I tried to catch my breathe from laughing so hard. The lady sitting next to Marmen didn’t seem to be phased by the boner whatsoever. She began slipping dollar bills into his g-string while Marmen continued playing with Rico’s chest area.

This only went on for a few minutes, but it felt like HOURS AND HOURS.

Eventually, the music stopped (Thanks, little elf man!) and Rico Suave picked up his clothes off the floor and exited the room. We all sat around, laughing and trying to process what had just happened. Out of nowhere, Lil Elf Man appeared and struck up a conversation with me. I was polite, but secretly hoped he’d go away. He didn’t go away. Instead, he asked if I wanted to dance. I was all “ha ha! No thank you!” But Lil Elf Man wasn’t hearing it. He grabbed the boom box, turned it on and started to dance. “Come on!” He said to me. ” ha ha! It’s ok! I’ll pass!” “COME ON! IT’LL BE FUN!” At this point, I stopped being so nice and was all “Really, I’d rather not, but thank you.”
Next thing you know, Lil Elf Man was tearing it up in the middle of the room WITHOUT ANY PANTS ON. Then! And I swear to GOD this is a true story, he came up to me and started dry humping my leg.. I was paralyzed for a second because PANTLESS LIL ELF MAN IS DRYHUMPIN’ MY LEG.

I was all “Dude! Get off of my leg!” And he was all “Come on! WOO!” And I was all “WTF LEAVE ME ALONE!” and he was all “ha ha ha! Merry Christmas!” And so I did what any woman with a half naked elf humping her leg would do. I kicked my leg in an attempt to fling him off. It didn’t work, but he realized that I wasn’t playing around at that point and so he dismounted on his own. I knelt down so that I could make eye contact with him and said something to the effect of “That wasn’t cool, Man.” in a Very Serious Tone.

And then I went home, took a Violation Shower.

The End.

High school was a difficult time in my life. Mostly because of the stupid battles that I had with my parents every! single! morning! before I’d leave for school. One of the biggest battles that I’d have with them every!single!morning involved my bangs. Specifically how tall they were.
To my parents, everything was a sin and High Bangs was no exception. And yet, every morning I’d bust out the curling iron, the comb (for ratting), the hairspray and most importantly, the blow dryer (You know, to blow the hairspray dry in order to keep the bangs locked into place all day long.)
I’d spend a great deal of time trying to get The Bangs to go perfectly. And getting the bangs to go perfectly involved the proper ratio of height on the top and perfect curl on the bottom. There was nothing more devastating to my 15 year old ass then to have spent (sometimes) hours getting the Perfect Bangs only to have my dad catch me on the way out.
Oh, the drama that would ensue. Drama that involved the measuring of the bangs with rulers (AM NOT LYING) and the pushing down of the bangs by my dad (think: chest compressions during CPR. Only, on my bangs.) And also praying, rebuking and quite possibly, crying.
Good Lord. The Crying.
I never understood why The Bangs were just a big damn deal to my parents, because, seriously. THEY WERE JUST BANGS. I wasn’t having sex, or doing drugs, or ditching school. I was teasing my bangs. And yet, every morning I’d get a spanking or a rebuking before leaving for school because of those damn bangs.
Last night as I was organizing some pictures, I found my junior year high school ID card. Suddenly, it all became very clear to me. My parents anger towards The Bangs probably had absolutely nothing to do with Jesus disapproving of them.

And everything to do with not wanting their daughter to go out into the world looking like a cracked out cockatoo.
**Updated**

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