The Corndog Monologue

It’s Coastal Carolina Fair time! My belly dance troupe, Palmetto Oasis, has been asked to perform on November 1st and I thought— why not repost what I wrote two years ago? See you on Saturday!

November, 2012…….

Ever since I’ve joined the belly dance community, glitter and sparkles have become an ordinary presence in my home and body. After performing, it isn’t uncommon to grab a bite to eat before we go home. Sometimes we bring street clothes—or not! Our eyes are painted like jewels and bodies dusted in gold glitter.

Having said that, our troupe was asked to perform a thirty minute show at The Coastal Carolina Fair. Our performance was on the Saturday that Hurricane Sandy skirted our coast on her way to the Jersey Shore. We were told in spite of the wind (and thankfully the rain had stopped) the show would go on. A troupe husband offered to drive several of us in his van. My husband and sister drove separately with plans to stay after and entertain my niece. With this in mind, I brought street clothes.

After our 6:30 performance, I threw my beaded costume in a bag and passed it off to a friend to take home. Joining my family, they’d already eaten the traditional foot long corndogs, French fries with malt vinegar and pizza. My husband insisted I get a corndog in my stomach before we began exploring the Fair grounds. As he handed the corndog to me, Hurricane Sandy’s wind played havoc with my hair. I tried to find a way to smather the dog with mustard with hair swirling in my face. I rotated my body into the opposite direction of the brisk gusts blinding me.

As I stood off the side of the Midway eating my corndog, my family left to explore an exhibition. After each bite of my corndog, the winds shifted and I had to face into the wind to take another bite. Halfway through my dinner, an elderly Fair patron approached me and with his southern twang said, “You make eating a corndog beauuutiful.”

My mind sifted through why this act was being complimented. Taking a compliment is not a strong suit for me. So, I looked the gentleman in the eyes and said, “Well, thank you.”

As he strolled off, I went to take another bite of my corndog and my mind went into slow motion. I could hear Barry White singing, my hair swirling like a model in a photo studio. And it dawned on me, I was still in all my show makeup. My dark outlined eyes wore purple glitter. The corners were accented with little faux diamonds. As I watched him walk away, I snickered at another moment in my everyday life infected by glitter and sparkle. I guess Ameera was the Corndog Queen even after her performance!

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