Fallout Girl's Blog

Dragon Lady of Sawtelle

Radiation Level:  150 PSI

Listening To:  Shiny Shiny by Haysi Fantayze

I’ve moved from Bar Method in Marina Del Rey to the one in West LA because of the $100 introductory special.  I can’t help but think that each studio reflects the neighborhood quite accurately.  The ex-ballerina teachers  in MDR all wear giant rocks on their ring fingers that probably match the size of the their husband’s boats.  West LA, the ex-dancer teachers have tattoos.  I prefer neither, but the clients are also different.  MDR has more older ladies, divorcees I assume, who get alimony, live in one of those apartments off Lincoln and have nothing to do but exercise.  WLA has younger ladies, perhaps UCLA students, who seem to eat a bit more.  (at least at WLA, I’m no longer the largest person in the class)  But then as I was leaving class the other day, I saw her.  THE DRAGON LADY.

Back up.  I should say that first, I smelt her.  A powdery, flowery odor wafted out of the ladies locker room as she walked out.  One of those smells that only an old person has:  a combo of 20-year-old perfume gone rancid and aging olfactory senses.   It reminded me of being 13 and going to see a boy I liked at his restaurant.  Before I walked in, I doused myself with Love’s Baby Soft.

A value, indeed.

To me, it smelled sugary sweet, like candy.  When I walked into the restaurant however, the boy wrinkled his nose and said, “You smell like baby powder.” That night, I dumped my pink, phallic shaped bottle of Love’s down the sink.

Um, not always.

After that sense memory flashed before my nose, I saw her.  Some would describe her as a loon.  She was maybe 60 with a a wacky blonde, curly wig.  Cat’s eye glasses, scarf around her neck and pancake makeup so thick, I craved maple syrup.  She was smiling that wacky, ‘I’m out of my mind’ kind of smile.  You could smell her all the way down the hall.   Dear God of Dragons!  What do you do with her?  This bar studio is much smaller than the one in MDR, you’re literally inches from your neighbor and sweating.  Everyone knows that perfume expands in heat and you’re aren’t supposed to wear it while exercising!  If I was the teacher, I would have no choice but to tell her to rinse off.  But I’m sure the teacher ignored her.  I felt bad for the other students who were forced to inhale her odiferous scent for an hour of already painful activity.

I’m going back at 6:15 tonight.  Dragon Lady, please be in your cave and not at the bar!

Gaga has nothing on the Dragon Lady of Sawtelle!

UPDATE @ 11:16 pm:

No Dragon Lady!  And the teacher had a GIANT ROCK on her finger and bragged about her upcoming honeymoon in Tahiti.  I’m seriously going to start teaching Bar!


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