When Cliches Happen

I was reading this thread and I ran across the following:

Anyway, this reminded me of something that happened to me, and I thought some other dopers might have similar stories.

Here is mine:

Back when I was a topless dancer, I was on stage doing my set, had stripped down to thigh high 4" heel boots and a thong when I began to notice that the usual smokey haze was a little peculiar. It got worse, and then suddenly my song cut off abruptly. The DJ got on the mic and said, very calmly, that everyone had to get up and leave in an orderly fashion. The building was on fire. The dancers were allowed to run into the dressing room and grab something to cover themselves with, and then get out into the parking lot.

Did I mention that this was on a day shift, and that the club was on one of the busiest roads in Tucson?

So it’s like 1pm, broad daylight. There are about 15-20 of us in various states of undress milling around in the parking lot while the fire truck drives up. Turns out the air conditioner had caught fire. About an hour later we were allowed back in (we weren’t allowed to go home)…

So a bit later I’m onstage again and I got the best intro of my dancing career: “The last time this next lady got onstage, the building caught on fire… let’s hear it for this hot lady!”

I got pretty good tips on that set :slight_smile:

When we were expecting our second child, I came home from work one evening, and Mrs. Dave-Guy was busy fixing dinner. I went into the bathroom to wash up, and we chatted with each other from our respective rooms.

Well, being a sassy woman in high spirits, Mrs. Dave-Guy caught me with some zinger or other, a good-natured insult or put-down. I can’t recall what she said, but she had gotten me good.

I was silent for a moment, letting her think she had scored the last word, then I called to her, as if changing the subject.

“Honey,” I said, “do you have your shoes on?”

From the kitchen, my pregnant wife called back, “No.” And I just said:


I wanna hear Opal’s story again. :smiley:

When I was working the counter at a junk shop in Providence one afternoon years ago, the door to the shop opened, and a man in a business suit popped his head in and said:

“Call me a cab!”

So I said, (with only a bare moment’s hesitation, which is pretty impressive as I’d only waited my entire life for this kind of moment), “Okay. You’re a cab.”

He left. Just popped right back out the door, no reaction whatsoever.

Now I gotta start hanging around near Broadway, looking like a knowledgeable native.

I knew there was more to you than just a nice web site!!:wink:

LOL it’s not exactly a secret!