Friday, March 12, 2010

Foxy Veronica's Peach Pies

Last night, in an unusual late night out (on a work night) I schlepped myself over to Madison's local freakfest for some entertainment from some of my favorite people.  No, I'm not speaking of Madison's watered down, and declawed Halloween. I'm talking about the Inferno.  I went to watch Foxy Veronica's Peach Pies. They're a local burlesque troop I've become a great fan of. 

Quite a while ago I met two of them (Kitty LaRue, and Moxie Rhodes) at the Frequency. Back then I didn't have a clue I'd get to see both of them (and their friends) in garters, corsets, pasties, fishnets, and things I have no idea what they're called (but I like 'em). I only thought they were another in a long line of cool and interesting people I've managed to meet while hanging out there.  These women are the embodiment of empowered. Not in a man hater, old school feminist, sort of way, but in the true sense of the word.  When they are performing, they are in utter control of their selves. Not to mention downright sexy.  Did I mention they're sexy? Sexy, and sexy too!

The last time I saw this particular dyanmic duo, was down at my clubhouse. They stopped in one night while I was playing bartender there. As usual they were having a gay old time, and brought some irreverent attitude into the joint. Often the place can get stuffy with a lot of posing and 'acting cool'.  I affectionately call these two professionally teasers, my "Cool mine Canaries", because they seem to be willing to push to the ultimate limit, for cool's sake.  If they're involved, chances are, it's something cool. (IMO).   Also at the house this particular night, were a handful of 1% club members (Google it).  My club usually has as little to do with that kind of crowd, but occasionally, they show up, and we try to be cordial.  They operate in a entire different world than my club does. They're all serious, while we're more fun loving with a side of serious. As I was getting ready to leave (I had plans for later that morning, and it was probably around 2 or 3 am anyway) I noticed that my perky pals were being chatted up by a pod of the 1% crew. They're big girls (I mean all grown up, you know), but before I left, I still took a moment or two to discreetly explain the broad differences between my sort of club, and their type of club. Very often, people think a biker is a biker, is a biker. That is simply not the case.  One of my pair of vaudvillian vixens happens to be married to a chum of mine (who was absent this evening), I felt it was the neighborly thing to do. Plus that chum, also happens to be a bartender that takes very fine care of me, and I'd hate to damage that relationship, by sending his spouse into a possibly dangerous situation w/o any warning.

OK, Back to last night. So, when I walked into the Inferno and sidled up to the bar to try and get a nice beverage among the uber cool crowd there, I hear a scream of "ZigZag" from none other than the effervescent Kitty LaRue. I barely had time to turn when she was in my arms and quickly remembering her intoxicating personality, I had her lifted into the air giving her a huge hug like we hadn't seen each other in years.  Just as quick she wiggled from my grasp and disappeared onto the dance floor. For a moment I thought, 'That's it" but then I saw her gesturing franticly in my direction. I followed her eyes to see that she was gesturing to me, for her bosom buddy, Moxie Rhodes.  Moxie, the pixie like waif, with a near perfect tush, may have the most expressive, yet adorable, face in all humanity. She conveyed a super clear message as soon as Miss Kitty LaRue managed to aim her friends eyes on me.  In maybe less time than it took the punk band that was playing to hit the next beat, her face lit up with recognition, surprise, happiness, and a little gratitude. All of it aimed at me. I was flattered. Now both of them came scurrying over trying to tell my jet turbine weary ears, things I couldn't hear.  I have to admit, I was soaking it up. Two smoking hot peach pies were treating me like a celebrity, and in front of all the super cool , coolios hanging around, seemingly afraid to show happiness, for fear that it would contradict their cool factor.  blah! . My over inflated ego couldn't help but to grow one more size right there. It was blissful. On top of that, my chum, spouse of the Peach pie, was there, and he bought my tasty beverage for me. What a guy, and what a catch he has. The good thing is, he knows it.

After a few minutes of me nodding, or shaking my head as seemed appropriate, the ladies realized that I couldn't hear squat, so they pulled me back, away from the very loud punk band, toward the back of the club. They had a tale they needed to tell.  They went on to tell me how they ended up leaving my clubhouse with the 1%ers and going to hang with them, at their place.  I'm not going to go into what they told me went on (nothing bad) because I told them that they could probably write about it and sell it, it's that good a story. I also told them that they probably would get some unwanted attention from that club, if they did that.  Needles to say, the girls, true to themselves (god bless 'em) seemed to (unknowingly?) walk a pretty dangerous line with the serious boys. Not only that, but apparently they went back again, days later, to recover a forgotten coat.

I still can't decide how much of their actions they knew were needling, and how much was genuine innocence, but they seemed to get out of it just fine, and with a great tale, not to tell too much.

Of course, the whole time I'm listening to their adventures with the underworld, I'm blissfully aware that I'm sitting in the back of an alternative club with, at times, up to maybe five super attractive burlesque performers, and for some reason, they're interested in telling me there stories. I was soaking it up. I love hearing stories. I so often am the one telling them, it's great to be on the listening side, and they were good stories too.

 There was another Peach Pie there, that I hadn't yet met. She sat primly and quietly nearby, while listening to the funny stories from her troop sisters.  In hindsight, I feel bad that I didn't introduce myself during this little BS session, but there was a lot of BS flying about.  But now, after seeing her amazingly spellbinding performance of a young lady dancing (maybe at home?), I'm worried I may only see the sexy character, and not her. Dratz!   She goes by the name Ginger Snap (correction: as you can read in the comment from Kitty, below. The lovely Ginger is a Snip, not a Snap. Got it. Good.), and she's adorable. I hope she's as cool as her partners in tease. Judging by a little facebook stalking, I think so.  I can't wait to find out her story.

 All the women that I've met so far, who do this burlesque thing, in addition to being extreme extroverts, seem to have somewhat mundane, or even normal, day jobs.  I like that my interactions with them is in kind of in the half way point between their stage persona's, and their 'regular' lives (although I've seen hardily none of their regular lives).  I've always like my ability to move among different "worlds", and I think I get on well with these ladies, because they also inhabit different worlds.  It makes me curious, if the darling Ginger Snap, will always be Ginger to me because that's how I first saw her? Hmmmmm. We'll see, I guess.

The performance itself was, as advertised, sexy (especially the belly dancers, and Ms. Snap) and hilarious.  There were cops, pigtails, belly dancing, light bondage, some great Samba dancing (which made me wonder as it was going on, how many other folks in that club had ever heard that music on Copacabana beach in Rio, like me), and even a history lesson. Unfortunately, for me, there is also a male (barely) member of the troop now, complete in high heels and pantyhose. Not to knock him, he's just doing like the girls, and doing what feels good to him, but it ain't my scene, for his bit, I had a drink at the bar.  Oh well, it can't all be perfect, right.

I highly recommend seeing a show, or even trying it out. It must do wonders for self esteem.

I only wish I had photos to put up......but I'm working on that. These girls love to be photographed.


At March 15, 2010 at 3:35 PM , Anonymous Kitty said...

ZigZag, you are the best. This made me feel so warm & fuzzy. =)

('s Ginger Snips, not Snap...because she's a hair stylist!)

Love you, babe!



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