Last night, I put on my thigh high zebra socks, a teeny tiny skirt and matching triangle bikini top.  I slid and dragged, lifted and popped, circled and shook — until the air shimmered with my warm breath.  The room was dark, tinged with red.  The music was heavy, beating with the rhythm of the earth and my heart.  The pole was shiny and glorious, as it should be. The rest of the world fell away.  No more worries.  No more bills.  No more work.  No more drama or bullshit.  Just me and the heat of the moment. The where, the when, the how, and especially the why — don’t…