Push It

When I first moved to New York, I lived in a tiny three bedroom apartment in Williamsburg. Craigslist led me to this little $500/mo gem, and I certainly had no reason to complain. The rent was cheaper than I paid in college, the neighborhood was safe, and I was 2 blocks from the train. Plus my roommates seemed like good people. For the purposes of this tale (and future ones), I'll dub them J and S. J majored in fiber (as in textiles) and worked as a professional knitter, while S worked in graphic design (though in a former life sold knives door to door).

If you've gotten any roommates from Craigslist, this is pretty run of the mill. It's your typical assortment of artists and young professionals, with a few crazies sometimes thrown into the mix for good measure. After multiple open houses, I felt like I had really lucked out. Despite my addition to the crew as the corporate america kid, the three of us got along great. We'd go to concerts together or occasionally grab a beer, exchanging funny stories and hitting up trivia nights at a neighborhood bar.

J loved taking me on "cultural excursions". She's extremely talented and creative - and literally up for anything. The first weekend I moved in we went to a gallery opening. As are most things in Williamsburg, it was for experimental art. One of the main showcases was an abandoned bathroom packed with a rainbow assortment of spray-painted stuffed animals. J had answered a posting on Craigslist to play in a one-day band for the opening. The planned called for the members to meet at the gallery and improvise each number. J's contributions to the group were tap dancing, singing, and kazoo playing. The big number for the evening was an tribute to spaghetti.

Not to be outdone by the spaghetti number, J's next trip for me was to the monthly amateur burlesque show in our hood. She had asked S to join us but S declined, saying "I see enough nakedness when i get out of the shower." (Remember this for future stories - it greatly foreshadows what's to come.) J's dream was to have the gall to enter the burlesque show herself. With each time she attended, the confidence to enter grew. When J puts her mind to something, it happens. And no less than one year later, I found myself at amateur night cheering on J as she made her debut on the burlesque circuit. The pinnacle of the evening came with her second number, "Push it". J came out dressed as a pregnant old maid. She started out prim and proper, dusting and tidying up the stage. As the song progresses, the maid starts letting loose. Right as the chorus hits a high point, J "gives birth". To an analog tape player. The deck is attached to her with a phone cord, and J continues to rock out with it - resting it on her shoulders like an 80's rapper. With this crowd pleaser, J effortlessly wins the competition and is asked back to defend her title the following month, which happens to coincide with the week of our great nation's birth.

J is a patriotic girl and as any true patriot would, she felt it only right to use her talents to celebrate independence day. To pay homage to our 16th president, J's finale for the show was an ode to abe lincoln. She managed to find an "abe lincoln disguise kit" at a local thrift store (a perfect example of Williamsburg's humor), complete with a beard and top hat. Minus the fish net stalkings and leotard, the girl was a dead ringer for mr. president. Sadly, J did not bring home the win that evening in July. But let it be a lesson to all of us with a dream. Though it may not include tassles or fake beards, or even analog tape players, we should all take the chance to go out on a limb every once in a while. You may even win some prize money along the way.