Gordita In The City

Last night I had the wonderful pleasure of going to a popular gay club in Boston called Machine... and I was delighted to find out that not only did they have gogo boxes ... but they had dancing poles!  Now, for a girl of not-so-tiny size... I'm pretty gutsy without the need of copious amounts of alcohol, drugs, or an exotic locale.  I am famous for incidents such as the Viva Las Vegas Banjo Bounce Dance and other bouts of fun. As usual... if you don't want to read my drivel... scroll down for 'Gordita in the City's Audacious Dancing To-Do List"

I really don't care how most people perceive it.  Yes, we can get into all the phallic implications of stripper poles and get into a heated debate about propriety - but that is not what this blog is about. We are going to be celebrating liberation I suppose? I guess I figure if I'm going to be so narcissistic to have you reading about  my life and worldview ... it better be nominally entertaining.  I consider last night to be a real Gordita In The City moment, celebrating the birthday of Central Square's most infamous Spanish Anarchist who shall remain nameless. We started off with beers at the Middle East and then off in a cab where I fell in love with a pair of puta red leather gloves that belonged to the girl that one of my best guy friend's is dating (okay... that's confusing!)

At Machine:

In terms of the Kinsey Level of gayness at Machine... I'll say a Kinsey 4, in comparison to Santa Monica Blvd (West Hollywood).   I mean... despite me celebrating my official 5 Year Singleversary, I didn't really care whether or not I would be picking up on guys or not.. it was about having fun (plus all the straight guys at the joint were in my group anyway).

When I found out that the stripper poles were open to use by ANYBODY as long as the go-go dancers weren't in need, I literally started awkwardly hopping up and down for joy.  In a very ADD-esque moment, I jumped on the box and immediately started testing the strength of the pole only to find out that ... IT SPINS!!!  Now... I'm already attracted to shiny fun things, but shiny fun things that spin... AND are on an elevated surface... I was flipping for joy... Until that moment washed over my POV.

Inside Gordita's Head at Moment of Discovering Free-for-all stripper pole:
 Ohh.... shiny! Okay... it holds me - check.  Spinny- spinny - try not to fall. Shit. There is a really skinny girl on the pole next to me - no biggie.  Wait. She's kind of cute.  Who cares, its a gay club - everyone is happy here.  What if I fall...OMG its going to be like Scarlet Takes a Tumble!!!     Noooooooo! Omg.. I'm gonna be that fat attention-whore at the club.. Mo, get a grip. This is fun, nobody cares. Fun. Fun. That's it - you enjoy this sort of stuff because you don't do it at home.  But what if I fall? STFU, get on the pole and show it whose boss.. But i'm Scared... FU GO GIRL!!

I held my breath and let myself spin on the pole to test it out and hoping I wasn't going to fall on my ass. Let me tell you, if you haven't tried one of these things... it is a lot of fun.  I see it as a big kid's merry-go-round.  When I get up there, it has nothing to do with me being sexy.. it's about what I like to call the "Weeeee Factor" also known as... innocent kid fun. It took a few moments to get into the swing of things... but I enjoyed it.

My mom always taught me that if you are going to do something, never do it half-ass.  After awhile, I asked the gogo dancer how to do a basic pole move and she taught me.  For a moment I thought, "I'm too heavy... no way I can do that on the pole," after I got over my own insecurity in the moment.. I shut up and actually tried and guess what? I did it! I slid my hands on the cold stainless steel, jumped, and clamped onto the pole by crossing my thighs tightly as the girl showed me.  I practiced a few times and then had the idea that it would be fun to try dancing on the pole with a scarf. I borrowed a scarf and used it as a prop and rope at the same time. Sooner than you would know it, my girls were joining me and even a gay guy from the dance floor joined my dance.  I hopped off of the box and went over the bar for a drink when I was stopped by a group of ridiculously attractive guys (no they were not straight).

Guy 1: I loved your dancing, you're not stopping are you? 
Guy 2: Omg, so much better than that twig right there - somebody needs to give Britney Spears over there a fucking hamburger.
Me: She's cute - maybe she's just -
Guy 1:  She looks disgusting, probably strung out on drugs wishing she moved like you. Where did you learn how to do that?
Me: I just hopped on the box cause it was fun?
Guy 3: I'd go straight for you if vagina didn't weird me out.
Guy 2: You should be a dancer here.

Needless to say, I walked away from them a bit stunned and flattered.  In my head, I saw this crazy chick who was just having fun.  These guys ... who don't even subscribe to my gender thought I was actually kind of hot. The encounter showed the disparity between my inner thoughts and public perception.  Yes, maybe the skinny go-go dancer that taught me the move looked more graceful than me and could probably do much better acrobatics.. but I could learn that.  Maybe there were people who didn't like the idea of me being on that box... but guess what? The world doesn't care enough to really have me monumentally matter to the point of the entire club stopping and saying "Bitch, get off the box!" I got back on the pole again, had more fun with the scarf.. kind of doing this peek a boo / using it as a support rope to do funny stuff.  At one point... I did fall on the corner of the box as if I fell onto a saddle and felt the equivalent of a guy getting kneed in the nuts because someone got in my way..( cough, cough, you know who you are). 

At the end of the night, I went home with my girl Kat and we tumbled into bed. After making a bagel and laughing about skipping the afterparty, I fell asleep on her couch reading a travel guide to Europe.  I guess I wanted to dream about going to Spain and all that Jazz. I woke up this morning with the WORST bruises on my thighs and arms. I guess if you are going to play hard, you pay the price.  I really understand why exotic dancers and burlesque dancers look smacked up. Its not from back-breaking sex... or pimps... but you try slamming your body weight against chairs or steel for a few hours and see how you look.

I mean - I had a blast. I've had nights where I went to Saddle Ranch in Studio City, CA  dancing on top of the bar with girls that had way cuter outfits and more fit bodies than me and guys actually would give me dollars because I was a good dancer. From the outside - it might look like I'm drunk and in need of some missing attention , most times, I just like dancing on bars and go-go boxes because there is more dancing space and it's much cooler than the sweaty dance floor.  So I guess, if other girls read this - and there should be a take-away message... its that "sexy" is that it is all about the three "g's" Glamour, Guts, and Grace.  It had nothing to do with size or even looks so much.  I might throw out the word "skinny" alot like it's an epithet, but this applies to ANY girl.  Even some of my tiny girlfriends have issues about their weight or looking a certain way. In a way, nights like last night give me hope that there is some love out there for everyone. Me being on that box was all about transcendence (yes.. I'm making that big of a deal with it... deal with that!).  For a few minutes, you surrender yourself to your own energy, the synergy of those around you, and wallow in awesomeness.

The truth is nobody is born fabulous, you grow into it with some confidence and gumption. I'm the last girl that you are going to see walking down the street with a midriff top, but guess what? I enjoy Belly Dancing, dancing Burlesque (yes.. all inclusive), and now pole dancing is on my list of sexy/cool things I want to learn. So are big girls and stripper poles a good mix... ABSOLUTELY! Not only do you have permission, I think there should be a movement of flesh on the dance floor.  Jiggles and everything because as I said to my friends at Emerson, "Ain't no mountain high enough, bitches!"

So because I like lists... I'm going to give you my Pole Dancing / Mo's Acts of Audacious random BS to do list.



Gordita in the City's Audacious Dancing To-Do List:

1.  Fall with grace:  Yes - you are going to fall especially if you are heavier and you don't have a good handle on moves. This is what me and my friends affectionately call "Mo's Roll /Bounce".  If you have to fall, try to fall into a cheerleader pose, thigh down to cushion the rest of your body, then ROLL or tumble to get yourself in a better position to be steady, and BOUNCE back up to disguise the fact that it wasn't on purpose.  Easier said than done - the point is if you land on the floor mid-sexy move, arch your back, give a sexy smile and come up slowly and gracefully as if saying, "I got this - I'm so fly I take it to the floor and get away with it"

2. Remember You are the girl that can get away with it:  I know this sounds weird and new agey.. but attitude is everything. The more nervous and unsure you act, the more people will look at you like you are crazy. Plaster a sexy mischievous smile on your face, some downward glances, a few well-timed laughs and you are golden. 

3. If you are going to that dance floor.. you have to employ the "Get-away Booty" move and use your ass to clear a nice enough space to achieve your dancing splendor.  The purpose of this is to say... "Guess what, I'm here and I'm getting crazy so watch or get hit".  You might get a few weird looks... but using your butt instead of your shoulders to clear space is a wiser overall move because it is non-invasive and not perceived as aggressive. More fights and irritated people are started because somebody was too dumb to think that pushing was actually polite.  Pick a spot, start moving your hips in an exaggerated way as if you don't notice other people and trust me... they will move. You can also use that move to pick up on cuties.

4. USE PROPS!!  I can't stress this enough... especially if you are self-conscious of  your looks. If its interesting, it is a conversation piece and a flirting tool. My personal favorite is a scarf/shawl.  You can use it to lasso people in, tie it on your waist to hide a bulge, use it to clear space, if you rip your jeans you can cover the hole, dance with it in a way that looks visually stunning and distracts from your body.. hats are also fun ... especially fedoras and the like where you can take them and put them on other people. Girls and guys LOVE hats... especially cool ones.

5. Don't do a back bend or arch unless you are absolutely sure you have the upper body strength to not fall back. Most of the time it looks tacky and slutty unless you are with a group of people you trust.  It is usually not the most flattering angle for your body anyway... and really only shows off that you may have potential sex skills.

6. If you are unsure of how to dance, follow the bass beat.  You are better off dancing slow than dancing like a jerky crazy white girl with no dance moves (yes... I used a stereotype).  At the end of the day, moving your hips and counting a 1-2 side step looks much better than trying to coordinate your upper body (the part most non-dancers have trouble with).

7. Don't be afraid of 90's dances like the Macarena or running-man. With the right attitude... tacky party dances are cool and will work in forming a circle and accolades.   If you notice, you can get away with ANYTHING as long as you set a tone that this is okay and you don't care. Notice I didn't say oblivious... pay attention to reactions .. but follow your instincts. You are doing what most people WISH they had the balls to do.  I bet you anything if you start doing this during an obviously nineties song... people will jump in because they are waiting for a social cue for it to be okay.  So.. be a trendsetter ...not stepper.

8. For gogo boxes, bars , and Poles: BEFORE you get fabulous shaking your ass, test the surface and the leg spacing. Girls fall off of shit because they don't pay attention to the surface.  Make sure its dry, all glasses are far away from you, and that you have reserved just enough space to maneuver side to side.  When you get up, make sure you ask management or the nearest bouncer... you don't want to be THAT girl. When you are dancing... be respectful, It's not a contest.  Take your time and get into a groove that works for you. Just because the girl next to you is pumping her booty out and clapping it doesn't mean that it will look good or even be right if you do it.  At the end of the day, you know what you are capable of ... on top of a bar with limited space is not the time to try new and crazy things. 

9. For god sakes - Unless you are doing ball room dancing or salsa... leave the dresses at home.  Even if they are long, dirty dancing in a dress is just wrong.  It sends the wrong message.  Wear leggings or jeans... I prefer leggings because of flexibility.  Dancing on a bar in a dress sends the wrong message, bending forward in a dress with a guy humping you from behind is better left to the bedroom.  It's common sense, but you don't want to be limited by your clothing.  Think about this... a club is so crowded... when do you ever see anyone's feet?  Wear sensible heels 2-3 inches at the most if you are planning on dancing.  You don't look cute taking your shoes off or bouncing side to side because your feet hurt.

10.  To stay on Poles and guys that pick you up - The key to staying on a pole or a guy is to clamp your thighs and keep the space small and tight.  Do squats if you need to, but its not in your arms (that's your weakest part).  You will have to use your upper thighs, not the part near your knees. If you have ever been on a mechanical bull, you should know the feeling.  If you feel off balance, adjust your hips, NOT your chest.  If you must and you can reach, clamp your ankles. If you feel yourself sliding past the point of no return.  Cheat your strongest leg down and curl your abdomen to keep your center of gravity. .. If you are on a guy, you can even make that move fun.


Anyway, that's my rant... keep it sexy - and classy ladies.

 "Tell Monique that she is beautiful, talented, smart, engaging warm, enchanting, a doll...but unfortunately, most men do not have the intelligence to see past her body and see the beautiful amazing young woman she is and this will cause her alot of pain. She might get lucky and find someone enlightened, but they are far and few. Tell her if she just lost...."  (Ay dios mio! Me jodas cabron! Vete pa carajo!)


Well, Well, Well. Aren't we all told that there is someone out there for everyone? That we are all beautiful because its what is on the inside that counts?

Sorry... but if you are overweight in America, you are kind of assed out and you don't really count.  Sure there are a handful of people who will like you... but the grand majority would rather you shed a few pounds or prefer for you to give up your succulent booty for behind closed doors fat fantasy play, only to discard you for someone much less interesting, (but with a much lower BMI than you).

 Now... mind you...the man who stated this very much loved a woman who is the same size 18 as me (but of course... he is one of the enlightened ones who can see my inner beauty, right?).  Why would his opinion count? Who gives a shit? Because... unfortunately, prejudice against obesity is one of the last strongholds here in the United States.

1. I have a friend of mine who works on Newbury St (The Rodeo Dr. Of Boston) who tells me stories of how her bosses won't hire "unattractive girls"... I've yet to walk into a store that carries plus sizes.

2. I have friends who are server's that told me they have seen tables full of guys change their waitress if she was fat, one chubby waitress friend of mine has gotten stiffed on tips several times because the tip was intended for the "cute" hostess.

3. I was once told by a teacher of mine that my acting skills were superb and it was a shame that I was chubby since I had leading lady potential, but only if  I dropped down near 110 -120.

4. Don't even get me started on the litany of Seth Rogen-esque men I know who (despite admitting that they don't consider themselves to be top notch) would probably not like to date a girl their same size, unless under extenuating circumstances (another blog post to come).. (I'm not demonizing their personal choices.. its just interesting how the male brain works)

 Being chubbier... or Gordita ,if you will, is even more painful when it comes to your family.

I have family members (most of them are skinny or formerly skinny) who constantly remind me that I would be, "so much prettier" if I lost the weight.  To consider a tummy tuck, lap band, don't eat after six PM.  Once, one of them decided to take away half of my food  (a #1 from In and Out) and say.. "you've had enough... you don't need anymore."

Even my dad has looked at me with mild disgust or click of the tongue... telling me coldly that I could stand to skip a meal when I mention I'm hungry, look at the things I eat (even if it is something small)  and say, "Mija, you are overeating... you have an addiction - a problem.." (even if it was my 1st and ONLY MEAL OF THE FUCKING DAY! ). He is overweight himself and has his own issues. It isn't too much longer after that when he begins to laud my intelligence and other virtues.

Which segways into dating....

I'm not ugly.  I say this, not because of an inflated ego, but because people tell me ALL THE GOD DAMN TIME that I have a gorgeous/pretty/ cute/ face. Time and again, I'm told I'm photogenic.. etc.. etc. Sometimes people are even shocked to find out that I have been single for 5 years.

Honestly, sometimes I wish I was really ugly so people and men would just leave me the fuck alone. This may sound angry, but bear with me. If I hear another person tell me, "you're pretty, but you would be SOO HOT if you just lost a little bit of weight" - I might just bomb a small city in Kansas for shits and giggles.

Let me put it like this:  I'm 5'2,  206 pounds (I regained some weight during my peachy keen summer in California and its melting off thanks to WW just fine), I wear a size 16/18, and I have the same measurements around my chest as I do my hips making me a technical hourglass though my gut fights against that.

Most people think I carry my weight well - some even argue when I call myself "fat"... preferring that I use some euphemism like chubby, fluffy, thick, curvy...
nope - sorry folks - just fat.  I don't see it as an insult - I see it as the smacking and all-liberating truth...

yes I AM FAT!  Let's desensitize you now:
FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT,FAT!

According to the theory of Intersectional Invisibility (google it) , I'm marginalized three times over - I'm a female, minority, and overweight. At least in Boston... being female helps my dating life and being a minority lends me a sense of exoticism that some males tend to find appealing (That is a whole other blog post). That leaves me with "overweight."

Quite honestly, that really isn't much of an obstacle either... apparently, many different males have found me attractive ... many of them superb examples of cuteness themselves and NOT overweight. I have no problem getting males to pay attention to me, after all, I have enough things to say and natural endowments to come across as appealing. My gregarious and understanding nature makes it hard for anyone to have a bad date with me. I know if I put on some makeup and a dress, I will at least get 2 phone numbers and several solicitations for a night of fun.

Just the other day I had two douche bags from the BC Football team (one was absolutely gorgeous) trail me in a bar and continually solicit me for a romp with "Vanilla and Chocolate".  I said "Not interested, there are plenty of hotter chicks, stupider chicks in here you could talk to that will happily fall for your cheap lines" ... apparently getting shot down by the short chubby chick who wasn't impressed with his high paying broker job didn't sit well, because he told me I had just lost my chance at hooking up with "the best looking white guy in the room and would probably not get another offer else where".

I didn't ask for it, didn't talk to them,  I wasn't even remotely dressed revealingly... yet something signaled to these guys that I must be some kind of freak looking for a hot good time. Its interesting, because I meet SO MANY men who assume it is okay to talk to me like that. Several times... I have heard the disgusting, "Is it true fat girls are good in bed" or a lurid " I bet you can give a good blow job - I'm sure you can... you are hungry for some chorizo.. aren't you?" ... its DISGUSTING!

And if its not a disgusting drunk come-on, its a perfectly nice, well rounded guy who finds himself attracted to my personality and sense of humor.  Generally we have a good conversation, everything is wonderful... and then the truth comes out... he has never really been with a big girl... but I'm interesting. Later on, it will turn out that I'm very attractive, great friend material, and there is a ton of chemistry... he just can't put his finger as to why he couldn't date me. Normally this guy ends up bitching to me about how his (usually thinner but not necessarily pretty or interesting ) girlfriend treats him like shit, how he wishes she was basically me... and that I would find someone eventually - but I would have every guy all over me if I just dropped a "few" pounds.

 It bears some truth to what some of my chubby girlfriends and very honest best guy friends say about how chubby girls are like a moped, "fun to ride, but not in public."  That they will rarely get a man to take them seriously beyond being considered the occasional at home movie date or chick to chill with.

In this dismal, honest, sardonic, and pretty fucked up view of the world through chubby colored glasses, what does one do?

Well...that's a toughie. God willing, even if I lose all 66 pounds to get down to 140 (a perfectly healthy realistic size 12 for me).. the luster of that accomplishment will be taken away by the overwhelming fact that I did what society wanted me to do.  Even if I sit there all day and say the weight loss was for me... and it was my victory.. my desire... the reality is that the desire to change would have probably not have been as strong if people simply encouraged that I was beautiful the way I was and let me be.

I picture what my life would be like and I can only use the example of a girl I go to school with who did the same thing.  She was 250lbs,  and in one year, she dropped down to 140. 

Since then, More guys pay attention to her.. even ask her out on dates as opposed to "lets hang at my house"; People are nicer and offer her free stuff at stores, her clothes are cheaper and she has more energy.  But even with all that... she is miserable.

Once you have been fat.  You will always be fat. Nothing will ever erase the little chubby girl or boy you were inside.  Anytime a new guy pays attention to you, you will always ask yourself - "Is it me he really liked? Would he have ever paid attention to me if he saw the fat version?" 

When you eat or even overeat... you will worry that "the fat kid" will rage again and do everything you can to prevent it.. even if you made slow life changes and kept the weight off. 

Eventually, you will turn on the people who were just like you.  You say, "nope I won't.. I'll always be a fat person"... but you will make the same excuses to reject them, as people made to reject you when you were fat. Most people that lose weight would not consider dating an obese partner.  Mostly for the practical reasons of wanting to date a person who shares the same "health values," however, its okay, because you worked hard to get where you are at and everybody can change their circumstances...fat people who bitch and stay fat are simply lazy or not utilizing their options.

The way I see it, losing weight and becoming skinnier isn't a freedom... its just a roomier box. Once you know that place of hurt, degradation, pain, and suffering of having been fat... it never goes away - it numbs but you will always be hyper aware. You can put a silver plating on a penny... but it doesn't make it silver dollar.


I leave you with an analogy. When I was younger, I was left handed. My mother read in Dr. Spock that it is a "right-hand world" ...people who are left handed will always have trouble. Well guess what the crazy old bat did? She went against nature and trained me to be right handed, confusing me in the process.  How did I cope... I became ambidextrous. I learned to straddle that funny borderland and turn it into my own unique thing. I can write with both hands... but I'm loopy and creative like a left-handed weirdo.

Going back to the beginning.

1. Society agrees that I'm a catch...but I could improve.
(Thanks for the suggestions... take it up with my genes, hire me a personal trainer, and pay for my Weight Watchers since you are so generous to point it out...while you are at it... here is a list of things including your tact that you could improve on)

2. Most guys are too stupid not to be able to see past my body into the awesomeness that is Mo.
 (Gee, because I really want to date that guy?  If it means I have to be alone for awhile.. better alone than in stupid company.  How about you must be this "tall" to ride?  Guess what assholes... in 30 years when your libido has sank, you can't keep it up, your testosterone levels have dropped , and that skinny girl's body looks like mine, stretch marks and flab ... and believe me... it will.... you will be WISHING she had half of the interesting qualities that I ALREADY POSSESS at the tender young age of 25...plus I will look nearly a decade younger)

3. It's a skinny person's world.
(You see, that is why there are loud mouthed chicks like me who aren't afraid to break off and create their own insular communities...even if it serves the selfish purposes of making me feel better, the point is that.. even if I am the minority and most people would prefer me to conform, I take my happy little middle finger, cock it up with a smile and say god bless you, I'm here to stay.. and I'm not shutting up.  Stand up and use your voice! Now move out of my goddamn way!)



By the way...for the most part...Yes, the rumors are true... but that is another blog post.


Thanks for listening... next time... relationship advice geared towards McSexy or perhaps online dating... weigh in and fulfill my selfish needs for recognition and comment or at least discuss this nonsense.