Little Red Riding Hood:

Segment I of Part III:

Caught like a deer in the headlights:

The spotlight is so bright I am momentarily blinded.

Instinctively I smile, red lips spreading across my face and looking towards the DJ cubicle.

What did he just say?

Did I hear correctly?

"Shake what your mama gave you, Tezzie," he repeats.

Shake what my mama gave me?

My mama gave me prayers, and nope I seriously doubt a Hail Mary would do here. Although, I started saying it in my head.

I remain frozen for what seems like ages, yet I know only a few seconds have passed. Ok, I lie maybe a minute.

Wait a minute, why am I called Tezzie? Since when do I have a stage name? Ok, this ends right now.

"Or maybe it doesn’t," I think as I glance back to the bar and a sea of eagerly waiting men look at me.

Gulp! I swallow the panic and think about what to do.

"You have to be quick here," I console myself.

I move backwards, away from all those stares and...

"Tezzie, Tezzie," I dimly hear.

Oh God, they're chanting my name. I wipe my sweaty palms down my skirt, and suddenly there's more applause.

Finally, it dawns on me that the move backwards and the wiping of my hands down my skirt seem like the start of my dance routine! Oh gosh!

Here's the thing, I am one of those people that dreamed of being able to naturally sway my hips to the music. Even in the dreams, I have of dancing, I stumble. I tried to recall my inner Donna Summer (Jennifer Lopez for, you younger ones), but my hips never obeyed my head. I had visions of dancing to my own "Patrick Swayze" type of partner, but that's for another day. In my robotic brain, Salsa stubbornly remained a sauce, not a dance.

Just because you visualize yourself flying doesn't mean you can fly. Do you know what I mean?

But back to my situation! As I am about to hide away from this humiliating situation I find myself in, one of the girls with the nipple caps and thong joins me behind the bar.

The crowd roars, men are clapping and cheering, and I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"Wow, she's really very good," my wayward brain notices.

She moves so smoothly.

Why is she moving closer to me?

She sways and throws one of those red boas across my shoulders and leans forward.

"Now, slowly lift your top," she whispers. "Make it part of the dance!"

Lift my TOP…

The Hail Mary's are louder in my head now, but I was also reared to be decent and polite.

"Don't be rude," my mother's voice is so clear; it sounds as if she's next to me. Polite Polly then, I guess. I quickly think up a lie (I will go to confession when I get out of here)

"I'm wearing a bodysuit, so I can't lift my top," I whisper.

Ha, got you! Now leave me alone and take your dance routine elsewhere. I mentally kick myself for getting into this situation. The bar is filled with men, salivating, drooling and looking ready to pounce.

This feels like a bad dream, and Ms J.Lo dancing around me and pulling the boa makes it seem so sexy. I don't want to be sexy. I want to go home.

Lord, how did this happen?

She starts shaping my body with her hands (I am squirming, trying to subtly get away). Ms J.Lo is swaying to the music. Down, down she goes in front of me, and all I hear are more coins being dropped and louder cheering.

Her hands touch my ankles and slowly slide towards my knees. (Mom, help me!)

Her head is in the region of my stomach. "What are you doing?" I eventually pluck up the courage to ask.

Why am I even part of this dance?

Pop! Pop!

"Wait," was that the clips on my bodysuit.

Before I could even think about where her hands were and what she was doing, she looked up, smiled and said, "Now you can lift your top for them!"

So, there I was, eyes as big as saucers, brain still not working (conservative family remember), legs slightly apart (the pregnant duck now about to give birth), and bodysuit unclipped.

"Lord, if you get me out of this, I will never lie or be horrible to anyone." My silent prayer!

Ms J.Lo is behind me and slowly moves her hands around my waist to the front of what is now my top/bodysuit.

She tugs...

To be continued:

The big reveal!

Stay tuned for the second and final segment of Part III.