Getting real

Suzanne Azhaar

Active member
An evening of fine dining (first time in fourteen months). Fantastic Persian dinner at Pars. Amazing dancer played zills, danced folkloric with cane, silk fan veils, and then taught someone to dance. Utter bliss.
 

Zorba

"The Veiled Male"
Ah Pars! I'll never forget the time I walked in there and the owner knew immediately that I was a dancer. Even though I'm male. Even though I was in street clothes. To this day, I don't know how he figured it out, but he did.
 

Shanazel

Super Moderator
Ah Pars! I'll never forget the time I walked in there and the owner knew immediately that I was a dancer. Even though I'm male. Even though I was in street clothes. To this day, I don't know how he figured it out, but he did.
Some people just have special radar.

Years ago a friend and I went to Matam Fez in Denver on dancer night. At one point, the dancer called for volunteers and got no takers (the usual shy-attacks on the part of audiences everywhere). I told my friend it was my responsibility as a dancer to support other dancers, so we got to our feet and joined her. That started the rush. We were standing in a semi-circle of six or eight women when the performer leaned toward me and whispered, "Excuse me, but you're a dancer, aren't you?" All I'd done was stand up and walk into the middle of the room. I started to deny any claim to dancerness, but my friend blew my anonymity.
 

Zorba

"The Veiled Male"
Some people just have special radar.

Years ago a friend and I went to Matam Fez in Denver on dancer night. At one point, the dancer called for volunteers and got no takers (the usual shy-attacks on the part of audiences everywhere). I told my friend it was my responsibility as a dancer to support other dancers, so we got to our feet and joined her. That started the rush. We were standing in a semi-circle of six or eight women when the performer leaned toward me and whispered, "Excuse me, but you're a dancer, aren't you?" All I'd done was stand up and walk into the middle of the room. I started to deny any claim to dancerness, but my friend blew my anonymity.
Dancers tend to carry themselves a bit differently. I've only been at Pars twice, both many years ago. One of the times the poor dancer apparently got scared when I Zhagareeted - "You're a *DANCER*!!!" she almost yelled. Long story, but years later she caught up with me via my website, and we had an email exchange about it. I don't remember the dancer's name though...
 

Zorba

"The Veiled Male"
Just looked up my encounters at Pars - I still don't know who the "scared dancer" was - but the "other time" we went, the dancer was a gal named Adriana.
 

Zorba

"The Veiled Male"
Which reminds me of the time my wife and I were driving up to Rakkasah (west). About 30 minutes away, we were passed on the freeway by a car going WARP speed! On the back of it was a bumper sticker: "Support the Arts, hire a Belly Dancer". Obviously, said dancer was running late for her performance spot! I subsequently created a similar license plate frame that I have on both my car and my Jeep: "Support the Arts, hire a male Belly Dancer!".
 

Greek Bonfire

Well-known member
Which reminds me of the time my wife and I were driving up to Rakkasah (west). About 30 minutes away, we were passed on the freeway by a car going WARP speed! On the back of it was a bumper sticker: "Support the Arts, hire a Belly Dancer". Obviously, said dancer was running late for her performance spot! I subsequently created a similar license plate frame that I have on both my car and my Jeep: "Support the Arts, hire a male Belly Dancer!".
GREAT IDEA!!!
 
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