the things we do for money

i was invited out last night to 'wet underwear night' at a local gay club.

at first, i was too tired, too broke, too 'blah' to attend. i had a drink with friends at a restaurant and went home, politely declining. i got home, relaxed, and realized that i was totally and utterly bored.

i buckled, as you might imagine, and showed up. jovial and content, i sipped a cocktail and admired all the attractive gay men filtering through the place.

not long after we found a great location with which to watch the show, an adorable man with a clipboard came bouncing up to us. he was recruiting wet underwear participants and had only one name on his list.

my companions implored me to participate. and the lure of a $500 prize was indeed tempting. but could i bare myself in all my curvy, voluptuousness to complete strangers? a crowd of them?

after some cajoling, i relented.

as showtime approached, they gathered all of us at the back bar for a bit of liquid courage and a few rules. our name would be called and we would take the stage. we could take our time stripping down to our skivvies and then step into the onstage shower. after that, the crowd would be asked to decide the winner.

if i had thought thoroughly about it before i agreed to do it, i probably wouldn't have done it. granted, gay men don't really care how tan or thin you are or that you aren't a statuesque blonde with huge tits, but they are fairly picky and can be downright mean. but none of this went through my head at the time.

i was third in the lineup. i was one of two women in the competition, the rest of the contestants being young, gay, and toned.

as my name was called, it became a blur. i recall stepping up to the stage and peering through the lights to see a much larger audience than expected - mostly men. i stalked up the stairs to pink's SO WHAT and flirted with the crowd under an array of bright lights and cheering onlookers. piece by piece, my clothes came off until i was left with bra, underwear and skin.

the time came to step under the shower of warm water, and i did so without hesitation. fear and trepidation never entered my mind, and i found that standing there, soaking wet and singing along with pink, i felt oddly serene. it was catharsis erupting in the oddest of circumstances.

i won second to a ripped young kid in tight, white briefs. it was the best loss i could imagine. and it didn't feel like failure for the remainder of the evening as i was approached by strange, gay men who commended my performance as "hot". i had more drinks than i knew what to do with, and a gift bag with a dvd of gay porn, gift certificates, and assorted prizes.

the part of me that was wishing she won a much-needed $500 quieted this morning as my friend karisse, who was there with me all the way, called to check in on me. when asked if she and her friend, an adorable gay boy who i had met an hour before the event, had a good time.

"yeah, it was fun. i took michael home last night and he said, 'this is the most fun i've had since i've been in san diego. that girl made my night.'"

moments like that transcend money. well, almost.