Come sit for a spell

I was thinking -- I like to cultivate the impression that I am a well-rounded individual. I'm a theatre major who knows what Avogadro's number is, I can rattle off five Coen Brothers movies or the starting five for the Miami Heat, and I know both what the T in James T. Kirk stands for and what it's like to have kissed a girl. I mean, I tend to steer clear of politics, but if I was thrown into a random cocktail party and told to mingle, I could probably hold up my end of the conversation.

However, I wouldn't be surprised if, given a large enough sample size, certain patterns started to appear. Like, with all of these posts, I assume it would become apparent that I talk about some things more than others. For example, I haven't personally done the math, but those handy label thingies over to the right indicate that basketball and lacrosse pop up sorta frequently. And, if I just cast my mind back to the most recent missive, I have a hunch a couple more representative topics popped up -- namely, when I got all excited about a Rubik's cube giveaway, and when I discussed the prospect of people disrobing at a concert. If I had to guess, I'd say my oeuvre would skew heavily towards promoting the geeky and the people gettin' nekkid -- full frontal nerdity, if you will. (By the way, I'd love to take responsibility for coining that phrase, but no, I can remember Ben Seaver using it in an episode of Growing Pains around 20 years ago. Side note: I feel old.)

I bring this up because an event has come to my attention that seamlessly combines these two -- heck, if you allow 'competition' to be the umbrella my sports posts fall under, then I've hit the trifecta. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you -- a strip spelling bee.

Yep, that's correct, basically a strip poker game, only instead of cards, the contestants spell things. The very concept leaves me nigh-speechless. The other thing that I can hardly wrap my head around is that it is happening in Toronto, and in less than 48 hours from now, and that tickets to attend and observe this phenomenon are $10, well within my price range.

You understand, I have to go to this. It's not really an option not to. I mean, it's like if someone told you that they found a show where a monkey had been dressed up like a pirate and was going to be punching a cow -- you'd have to go. It's just non-negotiable. However -- this is where I discovered a touch of latent homophobia in myself. The shindig in question takes place at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, which has left me unsure as to the gender representation of the contestants. It's not the fact that I might be in for a night of all-male spellin'-and-strippin' that worries me, so much as the thought of looking like a single man who paid for the privilege of sitting by himself to watch a bunch of dudes get naked. I could take a deep breath and get over that, but if anybody here is interested in coming as my back-up, I'd feel a little more comfortable, all the more so if that person or persons possesses more ovaries than I do.

I would also whole-heartedly support any acquaintance who feels the urge to participate. You know, strictly for altruistic reasons.