My amazing friend who decided to have a stripper pole installed in her bedroom to spice up her life called me this evening to say that she is having it removed tomorrow. The pole actually has spiced up her life, but not quite in the way she had envisioned. Also every time she looks at it, it reminds her of her injury, and I quote “That fucking walker!” I did remind her in all fairness that she had completely disregarded my offer to bedazzle it, so she really didn’t give the whole experience every opportunity to grow on her. This is the part where she asked me to face time her so she could give me the whole experience of flipping me off.
Apparently it costs more money to have a stripper pole removed than it does to have it installed. So I suggested wrapping it in red, and white ribbon to convince her grandchildren that Santa had secretly left the gateway to the North Pole in her bedroom. She was as unwilling to entertain that idea as she was with the whole bedazzling of her walker. I love her, but let’s face it she’s a buzz kill to my innovative side.
When I asked her why her hubby had rejected her stripper pole like a bedazzled walker (Sorry but the who knew there would be something funnier than the stripper pole to tease her about) she told me that the constantly large, and erect pole was giving her hubby’s pole a complex. God how I love that woman! 😉