Last night I told my hairdresser that I took up pole dancing because times are bad and I needed a part-time job to supplement my income.

"Pole dance is a highly sought after skill now. Easy for me to find part-time. You know lar, times are bad."

She froze, her scissors in mid-snip.

"Really ah?"

I burst out laughing and I swear I saw her heave a sigh of relief.

"You ah, I think you open a club better lah. Why dance for pple? Eh, Cool leh! Imagine when customers ask, where's your boss? Your staff will point up at the ceiling, "There. Wanna talk to her? Climb up first" "

She thinks too highly of me.
If I ever managed to climb up to the ceiling,
it would look more monkey-ish than sexy.

All my life I've been following the crowd.
Because everyone wants to get into EM1,
I try my darndest to stream myself there.
Because everyone says JC is good,
I got myself there too.
I used to keep long hair because,
well,
girls are supposed to have long hair and guys are supposed to have short hair.

But as I got older,
I began to realise that my very regular life is missing just that bit of fun and spontaneity.
I think sometimes, we just got to cut ourselves some slack,
throw caution to the wind
and just have a little craziness in our otherwise monotonous little lives.
No point living life like a mad dash towards the end of a marathon,
when that end is just an eternal sleep anyway.

Although pole dancing will never be in the Olympics games,
and it doesn't add value to my resume,
I just get a kick out of seeing myself through the full-length mirror
behaving in that outrageously vixen manner
and spinning naughty tricks on a long, shiny pole.

Priceless.

Look, even the ugly bruises I sustained brings a silly smile to my face.
Just like scars on a men,
these bruises are marks of achievements I tell you!!!!

I'm pretty sure my eyes light up when I talk abt my pole.
And really, trust me,
once you start working,
you'll come to realise that throughout all your teenage life,
all the efforts you've been putting in at school is just so you could earn a certificate,
to slog the rest of your life away at a meaningless desk for a meaningless purpose.
You'll begin to yearn, to need these little sparks to remind you that
you're not some pathetic living dead,
that you're still really, very much alive.

As the end of pole 1 draws near,
I'm certain I'll be signing myself up for pole 2.
In addition, I might just throw in exotic dance for additional flavor.
Until it ceases to inspire this passion in me,
I'd be spending my money at jitterbugs.

Damn it.
I'm beginning to think that
I must have been one of those slutty Victorian blonde hookers in my previous life.