56. Back in the Ballroom
Amy decides to take another look in the ballroom. “Maybe I missed something before,” she thinks to herself.
She cracks open the door and takes a furtive peak inside. She would really prefer not to walk into a big mixer in her birthday suit. Satisfied that the ballroom is devoid of life (or supernatural simulations thereof), she enters.
Everything seems to be the way it was before. Long mirrors lining the walls, great windows looking out on the darkened forest surrounding the mansion, vaguely creepy Renaissance-style paintings on the vaulted ceiling.
But there in the middle of the room is something strange: A metal pole, about eight feet tall, just standing there.
Amy walks over to get a better look at the pole. To her eye it looks kind of like a stripper pole.
“What on Earth would a stripper pole be doing in the ballroom?”
Amy frowns at the out-of-place object. She's never used a stripper pole or, indeed, been to a strip club. Last semester Shannon had gotten really into strip aerobics for a while and had urged Amy to join her, but Amy had easily resisted the idea. Fortunately, Shannon's impulsively-acquired hobbies tend to be just as impulsively dropped, so Amy only had to put up with Shannon's pleas for about a week before she had moved on to Shake Weights or Hot Yoga or some other such trend.
As she gazes at the pole, a small voice in the back of her head urges her to give it a try.
“Come on, nobody's here to see you. And you know you were curious about it when Shannon suggested it.”
Amy rolls her eyes. She's never had any desire whatsoever to be a stripper, and never would. She couldn't even understand why stripper chic seemed to have gripped women her age lately. Showing off her body for the pleasure of men had no appeal to her. She wouldn't, of course, condemn women who do strip, as she has no idea what led them to make that choice, but doing it herself just isn't for her.
“You're just saying that because you've never tried it. Besides, you love it when men compliment your looks, even if you don't like to admit it. When they're turned on by you, you have power over them. You have what they want, and you can make them do your bidding if they want a taste of it. Isn't that the ultimate in female empowerment?”
Amy remains dubious of the voice in her head, but does find the reasoning more compelling than she expected. Is being proud of her body so wrong? And there isn't anybody here to see. Maybe it would be fun just to give it a try.
“And besides!” the voice in her head adds with a giggle, “You're already dressed for it!”
What should Amy do?