A trip to a burlesque theater

We lied. Instead of telling our parents we were going downtown to a burlesque show, we told them we were going to the movies and that Joe Fell who had a VW van was driving. There were six of us: Lee, Tom, Ann, Wendy, Joe and me. And we were all members of the staff of our high school newspaper so we pretended this was part of our latest research project. After all, every student soon to graduate from high school had to know what the inside of a burlesque theater was like.

While Joe drove, his passengers kept up a steady banter about what we expected to see. Beautiful and sexy and big bosomed girls in almost no clothes. They would have patches on their nipples with ribbons hanging from them that they could twirl in time with the music. We assumed the girls would do a lot of high kicks and squats and pole climbing that would give us a hint of what was underneath their tiny amount of clothes.

We were not disappointed when we arrived at the theater in downtown Chicago. Joe got there without a problem since he and Lee and Tom had driven there once before but didn’t have the nerve to go inside.

retro sexy girl in the large glass with drink

The theater was filled with mostly men – Wendy, Ann, and I were the subject of a lot of whistles and come ons, but none of our group was there to respond to any sexy kind of treatment. We were there for our own education and enjoyment. I was so naïve and inexperienced I didn’t even know how a sexy come on would turn out.

We stayed for a couple of hours and as we planned we all got back into the van and Joe drove us back to the suburbs and to our cars that were parked at his house. I felt a little guilty when I got home some time after midnight, trying to be as quiet as possible so not to disturb my parents and sister. Still, I was happy that my lie worked out and that I got home safely.

As usual I was working on some homework at our breakfast table the next morning. My dad came in and got to the point immediately. Where did you really go last night, he asked. My getting home after midnight probably gave him a clue. And I couldn’t keep lying. I told him the truth – I went to a burlesque show downtown with my newspaper friends, I said. He was silent for a few seconds and then chuckled. I remember doing something like that when I was a kid, he said. And he never brought the subject up again.

We both agreed not to tell my mother.

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