I can’t seem to make tasty Indian food. Unfortunately for Phil and me, that doesn’t keep me from trying. The first time, I attempted Chicken Tikki Masala. I followed a recipe but, somehow, the chicken tasted too…. chickeny. I’m not sure I can better describe what I mean except that, with every bite, we were hyper aware that we were eating poultry. Anyway, two days ago I tried my hand at Chicken Curry with Peas and, I don’t know how I managed it, but the smell of the dish was reminiscent of my family Cockapoo after he escapes and returns from the neighboring marsh. Yes, the food reeked of wet dog.
The main problem in each of these cases is that I cook in bulk– and I don’t throw food away– so we’ve had to suffer through. Bite, chew, swallow. Bite, chew, swallow. Then we look in the refrigerator, see three remaining Tupperware full of leftovers, and swallow again.
Yesterday at lunch, I plugged my nose and pushed my way through a bowl of marshy curry– then I went off to a pole dancing class.
Because my grandmother reads this blog, I must emphasize that I am not interested in a career change. It’s just that, last year, my girlfriends treated me to a pole dancing class during my bachelorette party, and it was quite possibly the best exercise I’ve ever had. Combine that with the winter weight I’ve accumulated this season and the fact that I can’t resist a deal: I purchased six pole dancing classes from Living Social for the price of two.
But this class was not like my bachelorette party where we giggled and made funny faces. This class had actual strippers in it.
I walked in wearing basketball shorts and a white t-shirt that’s yellowing under the armpits. The other girls wore shorts booty-er than boxer briefs. They let their hair hang loose while I tied mine in a high ponytail. They looked sexy, and to say that I looked like a stereotypical butch lesbian would be an insult to stereotypical butch lesbians.
Alas, class began. We danced a little and swung a little. They climbed the poles– I sort of jumped at the pole, clung for dear life, and then slid to the floor like the fat kid on the rope in gym class. As expected, it was a good work out and I was sweating. That’s when I first smelled it. A familiar fragrance. Exotic and pungent. Not just body odor, not just something you might expect in a workout environment. More like….
Curry.
Or more specifically, marsh curry.
The spice wafted from my pores together with my workout stink.
There were real professionals in the room. Talented strippers. Legitimate athletes. At one point, one of the girls climbed up, pinched the pole between her triceps and torso, released all four hands and legs, flipped upside down, and hung– held up by only her arm! And there I was, smelling like Mumbai. I swear the girl I shared a pole with sniffed me and wrinkled her nose. Then she got a paper towel and wiped down the pole.
Yup, I grossed out a Long Island stripper. I guess I can scratch that off my bucket list.
One class down, five more to go.
Sounds like a win win to me. You leave class with something to blog about, and they have something to talk about at work while applying their pasties and squeezing in their thongs. “And today there was this girl in class who wasn’t even a pro, and she smelled, I don’t know, like, funny. It could have been dog, but maybe it was food. If I’d eaten anything in the past few months I might know, but anyways….”
Really funny post. I’m glad I found your site.
haha There you go! And I’m glad you found me too!
Too funny! Thanks for sharing!
thanks for reading!
I really don’t have the guts to try cooking anything very exotic, so I admire your courage to at least try it. So, despite the…er…interesting results, I say well done!
This post made me laugh. I’ll be back. (No threat intended.)
haha Well I’m continually taught a lesson for trying to mimic what should be left to professionals– referring both to Indian food and pole dancing haha. Thanks for reading!
Hi ,just started reading your blog today and have to says its great! In your first post you said you had a blog before, i don’t know if it’s linked somewhere in this blog but if not could you send me the link!!
PS Greetings from Ireland
Oh, goodness, I *cried* laughing… although, you already had me primed from your Costco article. I am realizing this WordPress is great for people like me who can’t get their hands on enough reading material. Bonus finding articles with such hilarity.
You know who also can’t eat Indian food? Aliens! See I’m part alien, part human and part terminator. If you’ve seen the Alien films, well, we drool A LOT. The goo drops from our oil slick skin, and curry plus drool is not pleasant. Although aliens do make great strippers. The tail helps.
Ha! Grossing out the Long Island stripper Ahhhh you crack me up! Basketball shorts and a t-shirt to a pole dancing class ha! Love it!
Very funny stuff! The “fat kid in gym class” line made me chuckle out loud. Had to follow so I can keep up with your posts!
Chicken, tomatoes, onions, chillies, Any other spices you have to hand. Bit of yogurt or cream. Dash of lemon. Done!
You do realize you’ve come up with the title for your next book…
i saw andrew post about ur blog and it is a riot. u r a great writer. eau de tree of life without the sin? priceless! i wish i could write as well as u do.
thanks, Jennifer! I’m so glad you enjoyed. Hope all is well with you!
Thank you for fully answering the question that popped into my mind when I saw the title of this post… why would strippers specifically avoid Indian food? Now I know…
Hey there! I am an indian girl, living in mumbai and so i pretty much have to eat and smell indian food on a daily basis! But to smell like indian food… haha!! Hilarious!
A great laugh, I loved every word of it!
I’ve had that experience before (not in a stripper class), but when working out, I felt that curry started to seep along with the sweat from my pores. Not a nice added smell to that of B.O., lol.
HILARIOUS !!! You’re funny !! LOL
I work in IT. I can totally empathize with the strippers :-p
Very funny, Alena… will be reading your blog more often!
I have to say I am thoroughly enjoying your blog! This is one of my favorite pieces i’ve read so far, I can totally relate. I rarely eat fast food anymore but being in California I can’t resist the odd ‘In and Out’ burger…I made the mistake of eating one a few hours before a kickboxing dance class at the gym. There was about 24 in the class (lots of skinny athletic girls) and I honestly thought someone had snuck in a burger and hidden it in the room, it took me a while to realize the smell was me! So crazy how the body can sweat out the smell of what you ate.
I am sure you gave those strippers a good head-scratching session over what the smell was. You do realize that in six months, one of them is going to walk into an Indian restaurant and have the strangest feeling of dejavu, right? Awesome blog.
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