A few Friday’s ago (right before Pride) Remi and I met up with some friends at Ripples for the usual: drinking, dancing, and over-all catching up. It was the first time I was meeting one of her good friends from her Marine days, who I will call Little R. Because she’s this cute as a button little girl who you can’t really believe was a Marine. But she’s cool as hell and I see many fun times together in the future.
Little R brought her straight yet bi-curious aunt along and we met up with our dear friend Sergio, who is one of the gayest boys you will ever meet. The night was going fine, no major drama until a butch woman with a clip board comes up to our little circle of people and asks “Anyone want to do the wet t-shirt contest?” Although she asked if anyone wanted to do it, she seemed to only be asking my breasts, which I’ll admit were trying their best to escape from the torn tank top I had worn that night.
I’d been talking forever about wanting to do a wet t-shirt contest but never really had the guts to do it. But here was my shot. I looked at Remi to see if she was going to stop me from putting my name down on the list, but no such luck. So I signed up and immediately felt like I was going to throw up.
About an hour later they made the call for all the girls who had signed that dreaded clipboard to follow the same butch chick that recruited us to a dingy back room. Once back there we were all thrown tiny little white tank tops, told to take our bras off and get ready.
Little R was being awesome and signed up with me, so at least I had her to calm me down back stage. As we were getting ready one of the women said to me, “Oh what are you a ringer? Do you do this professionally or what?”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
A few women also accused me of having fake boobs and a few others actually said, “Oh hell no I’m not competing against those.” While comments like that were catty and actually pretty bitchy, I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was a confidence booster.
We eventually made our way out to a screaming crowd of women waiting to be entertained by dancing women in wet shirts.
I was first up. Oh yay.
I couldn’t really hear the music that well over the crowd but I did my best to shimmy and shake what my mama gave me while I was up.
I cheered as loud as I could for all the other ladies, especially Little R. Danced with the girls standing next to me and generally was a pretty good sport considering I standing there soaking wet from head to toe in wet jeans, heels and a see through tank top.
In the end it came down to a tie between three of us, so we were all called back up on stage to prance around and do our imitation of sexy women for a few more minutes. I did my best to have fun and enjoy my moment of humiliation.
After we had all had our turn the crowd cheered for their favorite and low and behold, I was called as the winner!
I was totally stoked for several reasons:
First of all, I knew that Remi didn’t think I would actually go through with it.
Secondly and most importantly it was a $100 cash prize for winning and I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t use the money, honey.
I think Ripples is having a booty bounce contest one of these Friday’s …… mmmmmm ……..