So, I was just accosted by scantily-clad feathered apathetic showgirls following a traveling Mardi Gras brass band in the middle of a casino. In August. I just came from the best funeral ever. Duck-feeding, bubble-blowing, swings, walking in circles, good music, and more good food than I could ever eat all on a lake at sunset at the end of summer with a cool breeze. Now I’m listening to warm thick syrup flow in my ears and throughout my body. (dreamy sigh) I’m wearing a pretty dress. The only normal thing about today was seeing Jim. I like it. :)
I always wanted to be a showgirl. I know. It sounds weird. Shut up. It was my dream to be beautiful and wear feathers and dance on tables at casinos. I told my mother this in high school. She flipped. Understandable. But really, what else is a young dancer gonna get paid for that doesn’t involve college, teaching children or stripping? Unfortunately, I took the wrong drugs and got fat and now I am destined to a life of watching other showgirls who SUCK while inhaling smoke and writing about life.
For some reason this casino doesn’t allow cameras. For some reason I don’t care. ;) There are these awesome silver globes hanging from the ceiling. I want to lay on my back and just stare at them like stars. The wall beyond keeps changing colors and Allison glows. Ah, such a wonderful
Why do old people like casinos? What is it about flashing lights and large displays of food that makes them want to give their money away? Hmmm… If only we could mimic this effect…
Gold dust at my feet, on the sunny side of the street.
It is the soft rain that makes the fire worth bearing. “I Wish You Love”
“Living there you’ll be free if you truly wish to be.”
You know, there is a point at which I can no longer tolerate anything touching me, including clothes. Gets interesting when that point happens in a casino. I go home tonight with a purse full of lingerie and jewelry. Lol.
What a day. What a day.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2011