July 23rd, 2010
Bad news: Got caught in the rain. Good news: Won the wet t-shirt contest.
Rain part: True. Wet tee champion: Not so much.
I was walking around Greenwich Village with a student who had taken my improv class last year...reminiscing...laughing...whatnotting. Then...the rains came.
Evidently, water pouring onto a woman's chest that results with t-shirts turning translucent and clinging to breasts is a crowd pleaser. Even if the locale is walking down 6th avenue.
Sadly... at 10:30, there was no venue within my sight where I could just run in and scream, "Sign me up. My t-shirt is wet...and I'm feeling competitive!" I did, however, run into the Mail Box Express on the corner to see if they were holding a competition. No. But a delightful sale on packaging tape.
My imagination has been queued to script how it would go down shall I enter a wet t-shirt contest. Since I was with an improv friend, I shall tell the tale in a game that I do in my class: A to Z. The first word of each sentence will begin with a letter from the alphabet starting with A and ending with Z.
About a month a go, I was hanging out in Cancún, Daytona Beach or a Frat boy's fantasy(hard to remember because I was drunk off Jello Shots.)
Biff, a douche from a state school, convinced me to enter a wet t-shirt contest because I had what it takes: Boobs and a t-shirt.
Carlos'n Charlie's was the name of the bar where I was to compete.
Dynamic Duo are the name of my breasts.
Every time I consider dabbling in bad decision making, I find it best to consult with the ladies on my chest.
Finally, they gave me the green light when I told them the winner gets to be in a 1-900 commercial.
Gina McSyphilis was the reigning champion.
Her low self esteem was her secret weapon.
I also heard she banged some of the judges
Mind you, I just named a few.
Needless to say, I had to stay focused, committed and energized to beat my respectable competition.
Oh what a proud family I would have if I brought home the coveted wet t-shirt prizes: Trophy, tahara and shame.
Police were on the premise...to cheer us on.
"Quality Girl" by original member of the rock band Kiss, Ace Frehley, was the song to kick off the competition.
Recent laws dictate that contestants may no longer reveal full breastage.
The reigning champion, Gina, made a critical mistake.
Unfortunately for her, she decided to fondle her lady parts while proudly screaming, "I have a PhD in....
Well...she was booed off the stage and it was wrong for me to assume that I had a shoe in to become the champion.
Xing Lee, the naughty Asian school girl contestant, ended up winning because she wooed the audience, law enforcement officials and even me when she added a vocal technique while displaying simulated acts of lesbianism(with herself.)
Zoology was her major and she had developed a complex high pitched falsetto to communicate with farm animals and frat brothers from across the land.