Every couple of months, Buddies In Bad Times Theatre hosts a Spelling Bee for wordsmiths with the most robust lexicons—or exhibitionist streaks. Yes, it can get super-hard, and clothing is (very) optional.
What did you do on Friday night? I spent it watching a bunch of strangers strip, mostly just for drinks I didn’t have to buy them, or applause I was so willing to give them. For the last year or so, Montrealer Sherwin Sullivan Tjia has been breezing through town to mount an instalment of his popular Strip Spelling Bee series. The premise is exactly as you remember it from grade school, except, well, with 3D nudity instead of shame (or are they the same thing?).
Sherwin—an amazingly genial one-name personality—first started a “very game-showy” hipster edition of the Bee back in French Toronto over two years ago. “My girlfriend at the time had a friend who reported that she found the whole idea of spelling bees incredibly boring and would only attend if there was, like, stripping involved. When I heard that, it seemed to me like the most perfect event in the world.” When I first heard about what Sherwin was doing, I instantly felt the same.
Sherwin’s co-host for the night is local sexpert Sofi “Sexy” Typewriter, and she’ll serve as a sort of “spelling commissioner,” if you will. They’re both in matchy-matchy red dresses like they just came off stage from a Heart Truth fashion show, or from the Sweet Valley High prom. The lighting is soft, so it’s kind, and Stevie Nicks could have been our quintessential lunch lady, expect she’s behind the bar with, like, eight leather bracelets up her arm, serving martinis instead of meatballs.
But at Strip Spelling Bee, the administration is permissive and there are very few rules—and very few limits. There are three rounds, and about 10 spellers that must sign up 30 minutes before show time. There is no easing into the game—competition starts with tough words, and they remain hard throughout. (Forget everything you thought about being a “good speller.”) You get a word wrong? Off comes one-third of your clothing—you decide what that constitutes. But the most important rules, says Sherwin, are no booing and no photos. “If you want to boo someone, boo me,” he teases. “And I am the only one who can take photos for my, um, personal collection.”
“That means ‘masturbate’,” yells an audience member.
“Oh look, they’re calling me master.”
And that’s the ebb and flow of the night; a game of call and response that’s just too perfect because, well, the setting is intimate enough and the acoustics are incredible. People tease harder, hooting and hollering and whistling—and yes, drooling. (Okay, I think that last one was just me.) If you catch someone taking a photo, Sherwin tell us it’s our responsibility to snitch. (“Snitches get a free drink!”)
I’ve only competed in a spelling bee once, in seventh grade, and lost on the word “ubiquitous.” I’ve only ever been to a strip club twice, and found it incredibly dull. I’ve seen Showgirls and Striptease, and it’s just my luck that the strippers I’ve seen, both male and female, were like limp fish (or the new Britney Spears).
Tonight, it’s the opposite of everything I had imagined so carefully. There is a packed house, a sometimes-rare feat for a venue that, thankfully, doesn’t pride itself on being a “club” first and foremost. In fact, tonight is actually sold out, which explains why people are tucked neatly into the little corners by the stage, or spilled over onto the main staircase (which, by the way, is the most vital component of any entertaining drag show I’ve ever seen here).
Truth be told, I’m grateful we have a place like Buddies for this type of programming, paired with its usual theatrical fare, especially when it engages the community at large. (And, hey, it’s also been known to provide a stage for the public teasing of yours truly.) Where else can you find a venue in Toronto that, well, does it all and does it for everyone? In December, I was here for the launch of local illustrator Maurice Vellekoop’s latest comic book (the cult-y and saucy The World of Gloria Badcock). Before that, it had been a handful of years since I stepped foot inside, probably not since the climax of the deep v-neck tee era. It was around this time that the space began to establish a reputation for its non-theatrical extracurriculars, and Saturday after Saturday, you’d make the pilgrimage from way north of Bloor just to request Madonna’s “Get Together” and then dance to it onstage in front of strangers. So, that was…2006-ish? I often wonder how much Buddies has changed in mere years, and if the guy who picked me up there once and then asked me for cab fare in the morning—because he was “too scared” to take the TTC—still goes there? It’s alternative entertainment fuelled, for some, by the curiosity and word-of-mouth of the whole thing, and, for others, by the chance to brush against the fantasy of “showing off” for strangers, spelling abilities aside. I even considered participating so much it turned me on. (Next time, you tell yourself.) Instantly, you can feel the atmosphere is charged with sex, and, more importantly, it’s sex-positive. No one cares who’s gay or who’s straight.
And the spellers! You think you’d know exactly the type of person that would do this: for sure they’d have to be so perfectly Hollywood, or damn built, or a plain freak in the sheets. Nope, they’re all people you probably ride the subway with—not the type you see at Remington’s or Hooters or even on your favourite porn website. Think more…Chatroulette. Either way, they’re all jovial and buzzed and entirely ready/willing to give us a show, and to show us every nook and cranny.
Watching every other competitor spell and strip, again and again, never gets old. There’s lacey lingerie, fishnets, rainbow knee-highs, suspenders covering nipples, tassels all around. A schoolgirl doing her own version of Gogo Yubari with a bob. Then a delightfully eccentric woman who reminds me of Mayim Bialik (Blossom, and Amy Fowler on The Big Bang Theory). Words from the Wiccan dictionary. Another from Dungeons & Dragons for Nathan, who is every boy-next-door I’m not, and who your mom probably wants for you. Obviously, I had to lay it down: “I can’t wait to see him naked.” Plus one’s all around. He licks his lips, strokes his chin, rubs his belly—and, with deliberate showmanship, peels away the layers. “He’s like the JTT of stripping.” No, no, Sofi, he’s like the Michael Fassbender of stripping. Just say when!
With each speller and subsequent stripper, you can’t help but wonder if this is how they actually undress in the prelude to sex, liquored up or otherwise. Some do socks first, others do socks last. Some turn around slowly, others bounce from corner to corner. Of course, you’ve got to wear the good underwear, right? Yes, because the underwear does come off. And, after repeat observations, I will say this: there is a definite art to taking off skinny jeans. Trust me, I’ve stumbled around enough bedrooms figuring it out. By the end of the night, there is someone sitting beside a naked someone else.
I wish I could describe every other little detail that won’t live on in pictures, or video, or even in this very piece. You’ve got to experience it for yourself. As for prizes? Best speller, usually with the most remaining clothing, gets “The Easy Purr,” a CD of cats purring for over an hour. There’s also a prize for best striptease.
Yes, everything is better with stripping, especially when it’s all in good fun. Tomorrow, Buddies In Bad Times goes back to business as usual when it premieres The Penelopiad, Margaret Atwood’s adaptation of Homer’s Odyssey. In June, Steven Soderbergh is set to release Magic Mike, a drama about the world of male strippers starring beefcakes Channing Tatum (no intro needed), Matt Bomer (gay heartthrob-du-jour), Joe Manganiello (Hello, True Blood werewolf) and Alex Pettyfer (“the new kid”). So, what do you say Brendan Healy? In honor of the film, and of Pride, shall we hold a fun little competition to find Toronto’s best amateur strippers? Perhaps in support of S.O.Y.’s Pink Ink program? Just say when!
The next Strip Spelling Bee happens on March 2 at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, 12 Alexander Street. $10. Sign-up at 10:30 p.m. sharp, the fun for everyone else starts at 11 p.m. First come, first served. 19+. For more information, visit http://janesheisaclerk.blogspot.com/.
