Some people just shouldn't pole dance.

And that person is me. Well, and my friend Gofahne.

If you know anything about anything, you know that Alice, over at Alice's Wonderland has just started level 5 pole dancing. And she seems to love it. Well, aside from that amazing upside down drawing of herself on the pole the other day. By the way? That was awesome.

This is a lot of the reason I thought this would be a good, fun thing to do. I mean, if Alice does it...how bad could it be? She doesn't really seem like a skank whore, right?

(And she's not, folks. Seriously. Okay, I don't really know, but it doesn't sound like she is.)

So when Gofahne sent me the link to the Groupon for pole dancing class, I said, "Um, yes please! LET'S DO IT!"

(A fact I later denied vehemently while trying to blame the whole experience on Gofahne. What?)

Well, last Friday was the day. The day of the pole dancing class.

First, let me say that the studio is a "half address." Meaning that it's a tiny little unmarked door in a strip of other bars, clubs, and restaurants. Meaning that I couldn't find the damn thing. Of course, I had left my phone at home. So I stopped and asked a valet guy, who suddenly was a whole lot more interested in what I was doing than necessary.

Gofahne had the same trouble finding the place. She tried to call me, which was useless. I realized that this might be the case, so I walked outside to see if I could find her. Lo and behold, she's driving down the busy street in front of me.

I yelled for all I was worth, jumping up and down, flapping my arms, running after her car. I chased her up and down the road (I was on the sidewalk) at a run about three times before I finally got her attention. That's when I noticed that everyone on the side of the road was staring at me.

Hell, I would have been staring at me, too. I waved, curtsied, and jogged off to meet Gofahne at her car.

We went upstairs and...all skank broke loose.

I'm not kidding.

The instructor, I can't remember her name, but let's call her Talula, was wearing little boy shorts underwear, as were half the girls in the class. I was wearing yoga pants. Clearly I didn't get the memo to just arrive in my underwear.

My favorite part of the Groupon description?

"Note: Bring comfortable, fitted workout wear and bottled water to class. Prior to class, don't apply lotion to your arms, hands, feet, legs, or steering wheel."

STEERING WHEEL? Um...

I asked Alice about this. She had no idea. I think it must mean something else. Hey baby, don't put lotion on my "steering wheel."

Within the first five minutes of class, Gofahne and I were given advice on "doin' it doggy style." Because, ladies, you know you have to pop your booty out, if you want him to hit the spot.

I nearly lost it at this point. And we were only five minutes in. Gofahne was little more than horrified.

I have to admit that I didn't expect it to be so challenging. I also didn't expect that the beginner class would involve immediately spinning around the pole with my feet off the ground.

Honestly, I have no skills in that department. I have huge bruises on my knees from trying. My arms were sore for days.

Also, to the girls in front of me? I had no urge to see your vagina. Also, you need to do some trimming.

I keed, I keed! Well, except about the vagina part.

The other thing I wasn't expecting? Being told (over and over) to "love my poonanny" or to "rub my poonanny."

Listen, my "poonanny" and I have a great relationship. But I don't really spend a lot of time loving or rubbing on it in front of fifteen women and a floor to ceiling mirror. Well, the mirror might be okay, but the fifteen women...yeah, it was just very odd.

Never realized how much I hate that word until that class.

To make a long story long, I'll just say this: I've never felt less sexy in my whole life. Ever. Including when I fell and busted my knee a couple of weeks ago.

It was the skankiest, most classless, least sexy thing I've ever done. Wherever my sexy is, it's not in pole dancing class.

And I think that chair I molested owes me dinner or something.

And I have two more classes. Why couldn't it have been a Groupon for Burlesque dance classes? Now that, I can get down with.

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO GINGERMANDY AND RACHEL!! 09/09/09!)