Someone mentioned the shoes and other “accessories” that you can order with the outfits. I told her that I’m so naïve, I didn’t realize shoes had anything to do with lingerie.
Pamela made an announcement from the balcony, and the show started. I heard the Borat voices starting again...and lots of whistling.
As the models walked across the second-floor balcony of the apartment building, they glanced down seductively at the crowd. After walking back and forth, they then made their way down the stairs, which were lined with candles. I overheard one gay dude standing nearby say, “I don’t even like girl boobs, but this is hot!”
It was drizzling, and the women were wearing heels and walking down the stairs while trying to look sexy — I kept thinking, One of these women is going to trip, but none of them did.
In all the jockeying for good views from the crowd, a guy inadvertently put his jacket over a candle. It caught fire but was quickly stomped out. At the intermission, someone asked whose jacket it was. They looked in the pocket and said, “There are BMW keys,” and suddenly everyone claimed it was theirs.
The conversations among the crowd were getting interesting. One woman asked a guy, “Did you have a favorite lingerie?” He replied, “Yeah. I liked the blonde.” She said, “I didn’t ask what woman you liked,” and he admitted not remembering a thing she wore.
Another guy said to his friend, “Did you see the femur on that one woman? She was sexy.”
Two guys from Ireland talked for 45 minutes — about Guinness.
We left before the second show started.
A few days later, at a concert at House of Blues, we saw one of the models. We remembered her distinct haircut — short on one side, long on the other, with a patch of dyed blonde hair. I told my girlfriend, “She’s either going to laugh or slap me.” As I approached, her boyfriend eyed me warily. I said, “You looked better with less clothes on.”
They both laughed. She put her head in her hands and said, “I was hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone from that party.”