When a member of my creative writing group suggested we attend a quirky poolside talent show at an iconic motel, I jumped on the opportunity.
In real life, I wouldn’t have ever paid such a ticket price, parking fee, and lord don’t get me started on that overpriced watered down allegedly tequila-based drink I ordered before the show. All I can say is, I’m glad I took a picture of the provisional poolside bar as a shortcut to telling my friend what the bar offered. This picture at least proves the appearance of alcohol even if there was no evidence in my cocktail.
Nonetheless, very little could spoil this picturesque evening.
I even slathered on the Skin So Soft just in case climate change hadn’t killed off all the mosquitoes.
Although the host and judges were part of an improv troupe, the entire show seemed improvised. Not a single performer played it straight, which made me wonder how they curated the acts.
The synchronized swimmers performed first.
They achieved synchronicity more by the power of suggestion than actual timing.
Their stilted moves, along with their stiffly serious facial expressions, captivated us all.
They worked the crowd both in and around the pool.
Then the most bizarre talent on the scene did their thing.
As loosely as I used the phrase “synchronized swimming,” this performance I’d characterize as “burlesque.”
They removed the outer frumpy masculine-appearing layers, revealing the fight between bra and breasts.
They removed the outer frumpy masculine-appearing layers, revealing the fight between bra and breasts.
When as many layers that could be legally removed were finally stripped away, they jumped into the pool.
Another performance I’ll call “Elvis-flavored.”
When he first came on the scene prior to the music playing, I had a 50-50 chance of guessing correctly: Roy Orbison or Elvis. Then the Elvis medley came on, I think. It was definitely Elvis. Don’t remember whether it was one song or a few.
Next up: light sticks guy.
Or was it lit batons man? Either way, I was more amazed by the lit sticks, especially the illusion of geometric patterns as they moved swiftly through space.
Followed by a fire dancer.
Who ended up jumping in the pool after a fire hoop twirl gone wrong. That spontaneous pool dive was one of my favorite parts of the show. The sheer spontaneity of following her creative bread and butter.
After all was said and done, I spent around $80 for the evening. My cheap ass normally wouldn’t have spent that much on an outing. However, times have changed. The last time I’d hung out, I’d had a different job and hadn’t yet taken my first data science class. A lot can happen in nearly four months. So, I figure if I only drop about $80 every four months, that’s not too bad.