Television Romance

Stripper Pole

By Thursday night all the sets for the picked sketches were built and rehearsals had begun. Juliet was killing time in an audience chair, chatting to others hanging around the stage. She had twenty minutes before her the cast rehearsed her sketch-- not enough time to do anything but loiter. She didn't mind. After Saturday's show, it would be two months before she saw any of her LTV friends again.

"What about you Mia? Where are you going?"

"One guess," Mia prompted, from a seat a few chairs away. She lifted her eyelashes with the side of her index finger. Her eyelashes were long and fake. Her hair, in contrast, was short and beautifully natural. A small afro of tightly packed curls that would fit under a wig cap each week. Mia was so pretty that Juliet always felt slightly out of place next to her. Juliet smoothed her black leggings and adjusted her forest green tank top.

"L.A.?"

"Bingo." Of the cast and crew, thirty percent would stay in New York for the summer, twenty percent would travel home or abroad, and the remaining half would go to L.A. That was where all the action was, so to speak. Agents, publicists, managers, production companies. Invariably, a few people from the main cast would be in a movie or make a guest appearance on television during their "vacation.".

"Me too," Juliet said, "Maybe I'll see you there." Mia laughed. In a city with the population of Oklahoma, it was more likely that they both get struck by lightning than run into each other.

"That's a wrap on 'Strip Club Toy Drive,'" Sam called over the stage. Cast and crew dispersed, some delving behind the curtains to go backstage through the black double doors, others hoping off right stage and into the empty audience.

"Am I late?" Bill's voice came from behind Mia and Juliet. He walked up to them and shot a glance at his wrist, thwarted by the simple fact that he didn't wear a watch.

"No, they just finished early. The next sketch doesn't start for ten minutes," Juliet said. Bill walked up to the edge of the stage, which came to his chest, and climbed on the way one exits a swimming pool with no steps and sat on the edge.

"Do I go ask Sam if I can leave to shower," asked Mia, "Or do I just go before he can say anything?"

"Definitely the second one. But be quick," Bill advised.

"Yeah," Juliet agreed, "If you don't go now, you're stuck. It's almost Seven Years' time."

"Good point."--she stretched her arms over her head and exhaled loudly--"I'll see you guys when the war's on." She stood up like her chair was spring-loaded, walked to the stage, and lifted herself onto the stage the same way Bill had. She was a lot more graceful, though, despite being shorter. Just as Mia stood and swam through the curtains to leave Michael appeared and passed her by.

"Hey, sexy," he greeted casually.

Though they were both black and of similar height, the two looked nothing alike. Mia's features were more delicate, her eyes softer, her cheekbones higher. And her skin was much darker than Michael's, who was biracial. Michael's hair was on the short side too, but the curls were looser.

"Back at you," Mia said without missing a beat and vanished behind the wall of the curtain. Michael walked out to centerstage and admired the set of the previous sketch. Bill glared at Juliet like it was her fault. Juliet supposed it was; she didn't have to write Michael and Bill into the same sketch, but there was a part of her that liked antagonizing Bill. A rather large part. Besides, she thought, It's not my fault that Michael's good at his job.

"Damn, I didn't realize they were actually putting a pole on stage," Michael said. Bill ignored him. He didn't even turn around.

"Well, I guess a strip club sketch kind of calls for it," Juliet said. She stared at Bill like a mother trying to get a child to interact with the company. No response.

"You two in charge of the liquor?" Michael asked.

"And the food. Unofficially. We still need a way to get Sam and Greg out of the building though."

"I can take care of them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, no problem. You going to be wearing that dress I like?" Michael raised one side of his smile.

"Maybe," Juliet teased. Bill looked at the ceiling as though it was physically paining him to listen to this harmless flirtation. He decided it was time to change the subject.

"Is this thing stable?" Bill asked, referring to the pole. He could justify talking to Michael because he wasn't technically talking to Michael, he was talking to the general audience.

"Should be," Michael replied. Bill stood up and approached it. He grabbed the pole with one hand and leaned back, trying to see if it would bend like a sapling.

"Woah!" he cried and stumbled back. The structure had not leaned an inch. He had just slipped.

"I didn't know those things spun," Bill said. The pole had rotated out of his fingers.

"They do."

"Yeah, thanks," Bill replied sarcastically. This time he could talk to Michael because it was almost an insult, the performative disdain dripping from his lips.

"Let me see," Juliet said. Both Bill and Michael moved to help her onto the stage, but Michael got there first. He offered her a hand and hoisted her up as though she was hollow. She found the pole and wrapped her slender fingers are the pole, both hands the height of her head.

"Careful," Bill warned, but it was a warning both unheeded and unneeded. She took three steps around the perimeter of a circle, the center of which was the pole. Then she pulled up easily and wrapped her legs around the bar. Bill didn't really understand the physics of it, but he saw one leg in front of the pole, the other behind, Juliet looking as light and natural as a bird.

"Okay then," Michael laughed. He regarded her with an impressed eye but didn't look surprised.

Juliet paid no mind and slid her hands higher so they now at her heart. Her shoulders down, she swung lifted her legs off the pole, and into an inverted straddle. She didn't stay there for long, though, instead of hooking one leg against the pole. The other leg bent behind her in a stag split. She giggled softly to herself like a child swinging merrily on the monkey bars.

"You're going to crack your head open," Michael said like a promise. The pole twisted Juliet's face out of sight for a moment, but Bill was sure she had just rolled her eyes. A few seconds late, she had untangled herself from the metal rod and landed delicately back on the platform at its base. Her onlookers, Michael, Bill, and a few other cast and crew scattered around the stage, stared blankly.

"Any other hidden talents you'd care to share with the class?" Michael asked.

"Um, Vian taught me how to curse in Mandarin."

"Also a good one."