Yes, it’s true. Well– sort of.
A truck full of young men mistook me (and two friends from my House Church group) for a bunch of strippers. Ahem, excuse me, exotic dancers.
(Sigh)
It was such an innocent trip on a clear Sunday evening. After sticking leaving all of the kiddos with our husbands, it was just us three ladies heading to a girlfriend’s house for a night of girls only fellowship. Sounds perfectly normal right? Of course it does! Three “Church Ladies.” That’s what we were — modestly dressed, coiffed, and securely buckled in the seats of an unassuming white Dodge pickup.
But, to the men of Houston, I guess Ladies of the Night come in all forms — even the demure little housewife shape (not that any of us are what I’d call demure and I’m certainly not little!).
One wrong turn. That was all it took to bring on the whoops, hollers, and cat-calls.
Of course, I was the one, after we realized we were on the wrong street, who decided to pull into the “Splendor Adult Entertainment” parking lot in order to turn around. On a side note, what is it with the names of such establishments? SPLENDOR? Seriously? This wasn’t a very nice street and the building certainly didn’t have anything on the outside that lived up to such an adjective. Cold beige metal siding . . .harsh, cheap lighting . . . a couple of sickly looking Sago Palms. Yeah, really splendorous.
We were only in the parking lot a few seconds — just long enough to make a quick u-turn (and to shake fingers at some of the older men who were heading into the club . . . who were NOT making eye contact with us). But, those few little grains of time were enough for us to be spotted. Not by the shamefaced attendees previously mentioned — nope. Our watchers were in a blue pick-up: three young, college aged looking boys. The kind of young boys that think strippers, of any age, are hot.
HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!
“WOO HOO!” YEAH! WOOOOOO!”
It took the three of us LADIES a few discombobulated seconds to realize these boys were hollering at us. US! Dudes — we’re a bunch of MOMS! Two of us are nursing — no sexy lingerie in our wardrobes! We weren’t wearing flashy, contour-altering make-up . . . our hair wasn’t teased and curled. We were all in jeans and tee-shirts. Heck, maternity jeans for me, which are definitely the opposite of sexy!
They followed us down the darkening street, still honking and hoping for our attention, until they finally drove up the entrance ramp to the freeway — still leaning out of their open windows, grinning from ear to ear at us.
Is it a compliment to us? A testament to our unwavering womanly wiles?
I’m not so sure. It was a Sunday. Late, late afternoon. I’ve never been in a strip club, but (on TV) Sunday afternoons aren’t exactly known for being the “cool, hot girls” shift. But, maybe it is at Splendor’s. Maybe that’s why it has that name.
Regardless, it was enough to make a trio of church Mommies laugh . . . and give us some fodder for ribbing our husbands when we got back.
Oh yeah, I DEFINITELY told my husband that a bunch of college boys think I’m hot. Capital H-O-T!
Then, I asked if I could please, please go shopping for some NON maternity pants. ‘Cause if I’m going to believe those silly boys . . . I definitely need non-stretchy attire.
