Cue the Drunken Trombones

So last night, after intending to do this for years now, Kathy & I finally made it to a burlesque show in NYC. Starshine Burlesque was having its final performance at Rififi, and we decided we wanted to see them before they moved.

Man, was it a good time. The pre-show go-go was by Scarlet Sinclair, shakin' it in a black, KISS-inspired outfit. Nothing says "kiss my ass" like big pictures of Gene Simmons and Peter Criss on yer heinie. (Update: Scarlet's posted a photo from last night on her livejournal page.)

The show itself started late -- around 11 p.m. instead of the posted 10:15-ish start time. Because of the packed crowd (and despite Ms. Sinclair), I was getting a little cranky -- I was in a winter coat and sweater, and was dyin'. Then, when we got to the stage area, we found ourselves in a standing room only area behind two very tall women. I was getting a little grumpier.

But then the show began. And man, what a good time, right from the start. First up was Tigger, our transvestite emcee. We'd actually seen him before, on Pants-Off Dance-Off, but here, he was really in his element. He got the crowd cheering and dancing to the "national anthem" (that Old-Time Stripper Music Whose Name I Know Not), ran a drinking contest, and gave out spangly awards to members of the crew and the audience. All the while introducing dancer after dancer: Jo Boobs, Darlinda Just Darlinda, Julie Atlas Muz (who performed what was probably my favorite routine of the night, putting clothes on and packing up to "Another One Bites the Dust") and Miss Delirium Tremens.

Last but not at all least were Starshine's producers, Little Brooklyn and Creamy Stevens, who said goodbye to the joint. Brooklyn's routine was the title song of Rififi, joined by her husband, dressed all in black to offer her shadowy assistance in disrobing. Finally, Creamy Stevens' final routine was to "Auf Wiedersehen" from The Sound of Music. It's not a song that I'd ever imagined I'd watch someone take off her clothes to -- but now that I have, I doubt I'll ever forget it.

What stands head and shoulders above everything else, though -- even above the talent and dedication it takes to pull a show like this off, every week, with such panache -- is the sheer amount of joy in the room. The people on stage love what they're doing. The people in the audience--as many women as men, if not more so--love watching them, and they love the experience of watching them, which is a little different than the watching itself. The hoots and whistles and cheers -- it's all participation. Everyone has their own little piece of the action.

And when it comes down to it, don't we all want a little piece now and then?

Rob