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  • Writer's pictureRiley Murphy

She Stripped For Him



She stripped for him???


I’m actually talking about myself. In typical Riley fashion, I put myself in third person to get over the embarrassment.


I know what you’re thinking. A few drinks, probably a dirty martini or two. A seedy bar, a back room where you get some privacy. Some cheesy music. I’m thinking some R&B that’s been commercialized into elevator music. <- Ha, ha! Get it?


Wait. I’m going to go with Barry White.


*Looks right at you*


I love the original Barry White stuff — no digitally re-mastering required! Third person or not. I have some class.


Or, do I?


Truthfully, when I wrote the title I saw myself putting a paper bag over my head, maybe coloring in an adorable smiley face on the front with two cut out eyes – and becoming the unknown Gypsy Lee or any tipsy party girl at an outdoor concert event.

Hey, do you suppose the body is less embarrassed being exposed in front of crowd when the face isn’t attached to it? The bag got me to thinking about that…


But, I do digress. Time for the truth.


My stripper days came to me recently in the form of a night table.


Oh, cool thought I hear you thinking, but I’m too big to be standing on a night table and entertaining anyone – bag or no. For one, I couldn’t abuse the poor piece of furniture that I found at an estate sale. Hey, it was calling my name so it could be redone into exactly what I wanted it to be, so sue me. For another, I put these kick-ass legs on it. Great for a lamp. Me? Not so much.


Point is, I not only stripped the sucker, I got stripped myself. That chemical stuff took off a few layers of skin. That’s all I’m saying.


*Thinks for a second and then raises a brow at you*


You know…when a guy asks you to show him some skin, he really doesn’t mean a new layer of it when you expose it from a small chemical burn. 😊


Anyways, here’s the deal. In my stories I always incorporate a little bit of the daily life I am speeding through here.


So…


*Props hand on chin*


Anyone have an idea of how a story of a woman who strips with a bag over her head could possibly be made to work? My first thought is a dare with a guy who isn’t very fond of her, but then he sees what she’s been hiding under her welding onesie even with the bag, and he changes his mind on things.


Ooh yeah! Imma going to write a short on that one.


Now, back to my furniture stripping.


I’d show you guys my night table that I turned upside down and put a thing on the previous bottom that is now the top, but this blog is supposed to be about Riley the author not the painter turned furniture designer.


Geez, the grandkids are going to thank me for this when they’re old enough to read the blog – by that I mean ancients tripping over their canes. I intend to tell them this stuff is mostly true because it is. Ha-ha! I used to live to stress out my children but now that they have children of their own it’s too cruel. I mean, I can’t add to the hell they go through everyday just to love the little guys without the worry.


Man, its no wonder I took up the hobby of repurposing furniture.


*Leans into to whisper*


Sometimes the pieces ends up being nothing at all of what is was intended to be.


Meh, maybe it’s me who’s upside down. My first instinct is to turn something over and look at it that way. Lamp shades, tables, pictures.


Great example of this? The unnamed stripper idea. Third person me is supposed to be taking it off and my first go-to is to put a bag on her. Pretty interesting, right? I mean, is she more interesting in form now that her face is covered? Will the clientele hang around after the show to get a glimpse of her or will they be satisfied with her brown bag hooded dance alone?


As always, thanks for stopping by!


Riley


Oh, and for those that are wondering? Here's the night table I bought at a second hand store. I had this vision. I turned it upside down first thing. Now just imagine the look on hubby's face when I announce that I'm redoing the sucker like this. I had this idea you see...


Before


After


Here is the front. But, wait. There's more! Why, you ask?

*Looks right at you*


I wanted a time table.





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