Tasha Does Tulsa.

Today’s guest post comes from Kate Huggins, Tulsa newswoman, blogger, Twitter phenom, and a woman with a brand-new set of skills.

I told my grandmother I was going to take a stripper workout class the other day. Her response? “What? You need a new party trick?”

I did not need a new party trick. I needed a workout that gave me the chance to say to my friends and family, “I’ve gotta go to my stripping class, talk to you later.”

I bought a Living Social coupon for six classes at Vixen Studios in downtown, which opened not long ago in the Blue Dome District next to Dilly Deli. I signed up for the cardio striptease. I was warned that the pole dancing class causes bruising.

I walked to the studio in my sweatpants and tank top, nervous and unsure of what I was walking into. Turns out the studio is non-descript. The door is whited out, and a combination of curtains and posters make it hard to see inside. The studio has brick walls, a row of mirrors, and a hardwood floor with a row of poles.

There were six of us in the class, three newbies, three regulars. We introduced ourselves (awkwardly). Wendy, our instructor, had us spread in front of the mirrors, a folding chair each, so we could watch ourselves. Then she turned on the music (Wild Thang by Tone Loc, of course) and began the show, performing the moves we’d be using.

I learned the body roll (push the girls out, then the ribs, then the hips). Hip circles (make a figure 8). The booty move (push it out to the left, move it to the right). My body roll looked more like The Robot, but we all got the hang of it. We moved on to learn the routine.

The teacher counted out our moves, and we followed. The regulars busted out moves like Demi Moore in Striptease while I looked like a baby horse trying to learn how to walk, legs akimbo, hips awkwardly jutting out.

The cardio came from the constant movement and repetition of the routine. We’d count out the first eight movements and run through them a couple of times before adding them on to the routine. The trick was, the more we did it, the more comfortable we got. I looked less like Nancy Grace on Dancing with the Stars and more like someone with working joints.

Each time we went through the routine, Wendy hooted and yelled for us as if we were up on a stage, not just standing by a row of chairs in a small studio downtown. She was an excellent instructor. She coped with our various skill levels, and she took her time showing us the transitions, from shimmying to our chair, to perfecting the hip roll, and even showing us a couple of pole tricks as we warmed up for the routine portion of the class. We added more: Sexy struts, a shimmy, and, to finish off the routine, we rode a chair like a bull. We were sweaty by the end of the class. We laughed and strutted around the floor like we were trying to make it rain.

I don’t know what I expected when I signed up for the cardio striptease class. I walked back to my car with a grin I couldn’t wipe off my face. The class worked my muscles and gave me a boost I wasn’t expecting. I did it, and I didn’t feel insecure.

I was hooked.

Later that day I went out with friends. As I left the house my grandmother yelled out to me, “Are you going to show off your stripping skills at the bar?”

That all depends on my mood, I told her.