Or, Why I really, really love gossip
Bright lights. Now it’s too dark. Don’t people have dimmers anymore?
It’s really hot. I think I might be suffering from heat exhaustion. Don’t forget to tuck your pelvis and lift your chest! I wonder if my face looks as red as it feels. These pictures are going to turn out horribly.
Such is the life of a performer, and such was my thought process last night for my first performance ever.
I have to tell you: I was absolutely terrified. But the ladies I performed for were very nice and very enthusiastic about the whole ordeal (except, of course, the guest of honor, who was at first embarrassed out of her wits at the prospect of a male belly dancer performing at her birthday party. Think of her saying, “I’m not dancing!” over and over again and you’ll get an accurate picture of the scene last night).
See, I live in a very conservative town, which means people I danced for were shocked that they managed to find a belly dancer at all, let alone a male one. And with the stigma which dictates that belly dancers are strippers, I was happy (and nervous) to get my first gig. I had no idea what it would be like – would people be throwing ones at me, trying to stuff them into my belt? Would I be judged? Would they have fun, or just be awkward?
Thankfully, none of the above happened, and my first audience was very happy to have me there and very inviting. They were familiar, somewhat, with dancing, and knew the art was tasteful and classy – and far from stripping.
The story of how I found the gig is an interesting tale, too. They were eating at a local restaurant, discussing the details of the party (in a very official tone, might I add). One of the servers overheard that they were looking for a male belly dancer, and recommended them to the manager, who knows my boyfriend from his occasional services, and gave them his phone number. So he got a call with a phone number and the next day, I was officially performing for a party of five.
The next day, here I am, exhausted with nerves shot, and having never felt so exhilarated in my life, I am looking for more work. I am meant to be a performer – I know this now. It’s like my drug. It’s more powerful than heroin, and less expensive, too. I am shopping on eBay for my next performance outfit and hoping the ladies hand out my business cards for me.
Feel free to advertise! I am truly ready!
