Judah and the Pole
How do you keep your majestic feminine alive and saucy? Well, if you’re me, you put a stripper pole smack dab in the middle of your living room!
For the past two years, it’s lived on the floor of my garage. Every time I pull the Benz in next to it, I visualize how great it would be to wake up every morning and take a rejuvenating spin around it after my morning coffee.
So, last week I finally decided it’s time for the pole – that most totemic emblem of the erotic creature, to take up residence in my tiny apartment. Mama Gena may have her Pussy books galore, but dammit, I have a pole in my living room!
Or, I almost do. After I pulled it out of it’s little tsunami of garage grit and dead bug goo goo, hauled it upstairs and lovingly cleaned it, I was super bummed when its 9 majestic feet didn’t fit under my 8 foot ceiling. WHA!
Try as I might, I couldn’t even begin to budge the top extender section off the pole. This is where a man comes in handy. I pause and scroll through my contacts for one, when I find…
JUDAH! The shit brickhouse of a fire captain I met on Bumble. I picture him up in LA, sitting around the firehouse amidst a bunch of hard bodies with their chiseled pecs and beefy biceps.
I snap a picture and text it to him. “Do ya think your guys can do something to pull these two sections apart?”
“Is that a stripper pole? Oh yeah, I bet we can, when can I come by to pick it up?” This fire captain is all but leaping through the phone!
A couple days later, Judah comes and takes the pole, assuring me that his guys have some tools on the truck – after all – they dismantle cars – that will do the trick. And, one week later, he’s brought it back and installed it lovingly in my living room.
See how easy and fun it is to get things taken care of when you live in your Majestic Feminine?!