ChiefsPlanet - Life What just happened to me? Cello, rap and pole dancing?

I'm not entirely sure what just happened.

The wife and I had been out with some friends. Had a great time. Went mini-golfing (I won), and go-carting. Met up with a few other friends and headed downtown to a nice bar. Cool night, some live music, good food, good drinks, and just a nice evening. However, the bar was a bit loud, and we were tiring of yelling to make conversation, so we headed down to another bar that we like. This bar is quiet, and has cheap drinks. Always a plus.

We get there, and as we are handing our IDs to the bartender, another guy, who apparently runs the place, tells us that we're just in time for the show (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER ONE).

We order our drinks and sit down, making light conversation, wondering what's about to go down. We've been here before, but there's never been any sort of live music or show. But now, there's going to be a PERFORMANCE!

A few minutes later, this old guy in his 70s gets on the mic and makes the following announcement:

"In just a few minutes, the lovely and talented Amanda Nicole Smith will take th stage. First, she will be performing a few songs on the cello. Then, she will perform some original singing and rapping songs. And finally, she will end with a dance number, the likes of which you have never seen before! (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER TWO)"

We were intrigued. With an endorsement like that, how could one not be? The bar was beginning to fill up, too. Men and women in their 50s began sitting behind us. I figured they were there to support this girl for her recital. But, there was something odd. While the bar has always had a dance floor, it's always been empty. But, now there's a stage, a disco ball, a fog machine and some colored strobe lights. And a pole (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER THREE).

We are slowly beginning to realize that this is going to be amazing. There's a cello cover of Radiohead's "Creep" playing. When that ends, another song begins. Danny looks at me says, "I recognize this song, but I'm not sure where from."

I reply, "It's from Requiem for a Dream (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER FOUR)."

The time comes and this girl comes out on stage, with a cello. She's got on high heels, a button down shirt, some tasteful leggings and a not-too-short skirt. Nothing outrageous.

She introduces the song she's about to play as a piece by "SAINT SANDS." No, not Saint-Saens. SAINT SANDS. Oh, fantastic.

The accompaniment music begins to play, and she plays along. It's not terrible, but it's something that any junior high band geek should be able to play. I'm trying my hardest not to laugh. I don't want to offend the old guy, who I'm beginning to think might be in the mob.

She ends, and people politely golf-clap. It's very quiet. I feel embarrassed when my text message alert goes off and is oddly noticeable. Strange for a bar.

She introduces her next piece as a "song by Bach that you might hear in the commercials." Of course, she's referring to Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. I know this because it's one of my favorite songs of all time.

This one: <object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DwHpDOWhkGk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DwHpDOWhkGk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>

And you know what? She's not terrible. There were a few minor notes off, and some tempo problems, but nothing overly grating. I mean, she's no Yo-Yo Ma, but for a stripper (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER FIVE), she's not bad!

Then, the real fun begins. She announces she will be performing some original songs and raps. AMAZING. She begins to sing and dance and rap, moving her body in a very odd way. It's like she wants to be stripping, but is forced to be actually dancing instead.

At one point in the song, she asked "All my poppas and lockas come down to the front of the center stage." Only, it didn't seem like a request. But it was PART of the song. As in, it was supposed to be in there as a lyric, but she really wanted people to come down and dance. I was tempted, but worried that I might get shot by the old man, who I am now suspecting is actually her pimp.

She performs these two awkwardly-long songs to a clearly uncomfortable crowd. No one was really sure what to think. I thought that we were being punked. I was seriously expecting Ashton Kutcher to pop out from behind a corner and scream, "YOU'RE BEING PUNKED, DUDES! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

I texted Danny (because talking would have been rude): "What in the merry blue **** is going on here?" (ROR, I told you I was stealing this phrase... you were warned.)

Danny: "Clearly, we have been roofied."

Her original, terrible, yet amazing songs end, and mustyballs gets back on the mic. He urges us to tip her in the tip jar to the right of the stage. Yeah, not happening. Girl disappears behind stage for a wardrobe change. We quietly engage in conversation, wondering what is next. We thought it was going to be some kind of rhythmic gymnastics pole routine, with ribbons.

The fog machines start going crazy. The music switches to Crystal Method. Strobes are going crazy (OMINOUS PORTENT NUMBER SIX).

She emerges. She's still wearing the high-heels, but she's shed her outer clothing. She's wearing a two-sizes-too-small bikini top and some boy shorts that look like they got in a fight with a Bedazzler and lost. Badly.

She shimmies up the pole, and immediately does some kind of weird split thing. Only, the stage is so narrow, that when she starts to twist around the pole, not only does she hit the EXIT sign behind her, nearly shattering it, her heel clips an exposed air duct. It shook a good 15 feet worth of pipe, with a resounding "CLANG!" I thought the whole thing was coming down.

This kind of routine goes on for at least 10 minutes, but she never takes her clothes off. In Missouri, it's now illegal to have actual strip clubs, so she was as naked as she could legally be. My wife and her friend are turning red. Not from embarrassment, but just the sheer absurdity of the situation.

I now suspect that the men and women in their 50s seated behind us are NOT her friends and family. Yet, they are still there. Perhaps they were too embarrassed to leave. Maybe they were in shock, like we were. Whatever the reason, they were CLEARLY uncomfortable. Some guy walked up in the middle of this pole dancing display to put some money in the tip jar and was nearly decapitated by a pair of high-heels whipping around the pole like a tetherball.

This goes on for far too long, but eventually ends. She takes a bow, and just like that . . . it's over. People clear out of the bar, the fog recedes, some weird carny-like crew comes out and quickly disassembles the pole, and everything just goes . . . back to normal. It's like the whole thing never happened.

And we now all have this shared common experience that's so strange that when you attempt to explain it to someone, it will sound like a dream, or an acid flashback.

But, I guess you had to be there.