In this week's print edition, L.J. Williamson attends Richard Simmons' dance class at the Beverly Hills dance studio where he's been working for 37 years, which anyone can attend for only $12.
Her dispatch includes an account of Simmons berating the crowd:
“What is this shit?” he shouts. “Quit faking it! You can go home and fake it tonight, but don't fake it here.”
The room eats up the wet-noodle abuse.
“Everyone get in a big circle. Move your ass.”
The crowd clears the dance floor as Simmons struts, bounces and sashays through the center of it all, the periphery imitating his movements, beaming pick me, pick me, pick me. Simmons points to two hunky, grinning men, seductively beckoning them to join him, and they do their best to keep up, but however well or poorly they manage, it doesn't really matter, because Simmons is the one who occupies the spotlight.
No one can touch the queen.
Read “Richard Simmons' Fabulous Poker Face” and watch a video below.