The life and times of an ethnically ambiguous little lady.

Friday, February 02, 2007

What Happens When You Take a Girl Out of Philly

I did a show a few days ago at a bar on the Upper East Side. These types of shows are always interesting because the people at the bar are usually there to get drunk and not necessarily watch comedy. Thus the hilarity, or more often the awkwardness ensures.

On this particular night, there were a bunch of drunken nurses on one side, an older couple watching the show intently just a few feet away from the performing comics, and a group of undoubtedly hot, yet slightly trashy girls. And I'm not saying that because I'm jealous. There's just something about a girl that wears a tank top with no bra in the middle of winter, which says to me "I’m sure this girl is very nice, but I think she might have trade sexual favors for a place to live." When asked who the girls were, they said they were the Girls of Philly and had just finished taping a radio spot. Something told me it wasn't on NPR.

And now it was my turn to entertain this crowd. I looked over at the Girls from Philly. And I had to ask them my question.

"Hey girls? I'm a girl. And I'm from Philly. How come I can't be a Girl from Philly? Is it because I'm short?"

I expected them to say something like. "Yes." Or "Short is the least of your problems." Or "Don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me?"

But that's not what they said at all. In fact, one of them--who had an INCREDIBLY long torso, I may add. Like it was practically a work of art it was so long--yells over to me: "You can be a Girl of Philly. Show me your boobs!"

This was not the answer I expected.

"Well, I could," I said. "But usually when I show them, I like the person to say nice things to me first and make me feel pretty. And alcohol helps, too."

"Well what do you want to drink?" She asked.

"Tequila. Like a trough of tequila, " I said. "In fact, just warm the funnel up now."

And the rest of the set was great (and I don’t mean just my boobs! He-yo!). The audience was participating and I felt like I had done my job. I just hoped they would forget about the boob showing. I mean, I just felt so unprepared. At least I could get a tan before my bosom’s big debut!

Luckily for me, that wasn't a problem. In fact, there were many other boobs on display that night, courtesy of the Girls of Philly. And the girls were very considerate. When a guy at the other end of the bar yelled that he couldn't see, they turned around and gave him fair share of eye candy.

And while I realized that you can take a girl out of Philly, you can't take the Philly out of the girl. However in these girls' cases, just substitute the word "Philly" with "strip club."

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