Pole Withdrawal

You know what it's like. You can't make this weeks class. Or worse, you're going away and there isn't a studio near you.

You try to distract yourself. "I don't need it," you say. "I can't become dependent on it." "There's more to life than that."

But soon, everywhere you look you are haunted. You start to notice street signs for the first time. Public transportation becomes a nightmare. (Maybe no one would notice if I just did one chair spin..) Even lamp posts, that are far too wide, become temping.

That's when you give in. You are walking with your friends, or on a date, or grabbing lunch with coworkers and you see it. That perfect round smooth pole. "I'll just touch it for a minute," you tell yourself, "just one little trick." But the second you let down your guard, you can't stop yourself.

You climb that thing. You spin. You lean back. You give it your all. 

You look down and see that friend, or boyfriend, or maybe even coworker standing there- jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide. 

You laugh it off but the farther you walk away from that pole, the more you think about it. That rush. The adrenaline.

Before you know it, you're doing it again. Your friends get used to dragging you away from street signs, your boyfriend learns to keep you away from busses.

Your friends role their eyes as you say, "just one more picture? It's called Street Poling. It's a thing, I swear! It's the new planking.." They sigh as you tell them, for the hundredth time, how Jenyne Butterfly went upside down on a lamp post in Stockholm, "this is nothing!"

They tell you that you must be certifiably insane. And what do you say?

"Yes, I'm polesessed."