Doh! I can't do it! I absolutely have to tell this story before I finish the Carnap overview, it's waaay too funny. ....So, over the last month I haven't been working because of school and I have no job. In conjunction with paying the astronomical cost of out-of-state tuition, furnishing my room, moving expenses, car repairs, the usual expenses of living and so on I have had the unpleasant experience of watching my hard-earned savings account evaporate at a rate much higher than I ever anticipated. So, I called up a bachelorette/birthday party service and asked if they had any work. They gave me 2 parties for Saturday night. The first party was cake. The second party was....an interesting experience....
The organizers of the birthday party gave me a meeting place from which I would follow them to the party. So, I'm following them for a couple of blocks and they pull over. I notice that I'm not in the best part of town (understatement). I believe the technical term is 'the hood' or 'the ghetto'. I'm a bit confused because we're pulled over at what appears to be a school. Then they signal for me to pull up in front of them. I oblige. I park and they walk over and say, "we wanna see what you workin' with". I step out of the car and they say (I'm going to paraphrase and summarize because I don't remember the exact words) "Um, we specifically asked for a black dude". For the sake of accuracy I believe they told me that they had 'axed' for a black dude, but this isn't a paper on semantics. I was very cordial (what if they try to ax me too?!) and I apologized and said the agency had sent me out, and I assumed it was because no black dudes were available, I further apologized for my whiteness, and told them that I had applied as much fake tanner as I could for the night and I wasn't going to get much darker in the immediate future. (I actually did say that). I pointed out that I was their only option and they could decide if they wanted me or not, no offence would be taken. After conferring amongst themselves they agreed to let me dance for the birthday girl.
I show up to the house and there is a block party going on just like you see in MTV videos, people sprawled all over the front lawn, drinking, dancing, and eating. Casting never told me but apparently I was the token white guy in this hip hop video. As I walked through the party in the front yard I told the hostess to put the birthday girl in a room in the house along with the other girls, gave her my CD, and told her when the music started, I'd come out and do my show.
I heard the music start, took a deep breath, said to my self "showtime", and started my cowboy show for a very packed living room. The birthday girl looked to be well into her 50s and was the mother of the organizer. The whole time the birthday girl/lady kept on saying, "Damn! boy! Where your daddy at! I wanna meet your daddy!" So, Dad, if you're reading this, you have a gig down here, anytime you're ready!
The show went quite well despite there being almost no space to dance (I couldn't even do my best move!) and the birthday mom had a great time and the rest of the girls watching seemed to have fun too. As I was packing up the hostess came up to me and said, "we've had other guys come out and dance at our parties before, but you were the best". I thanked her for the compliment, gave the mom and hug and a kiss on each cheek, then--as inconspicuously as a white stripper can make his way through a front yard full of black guys whose girlfriends had just been entertained by said white boy--walked to my car, got in, closed the door and laughed. Laughed at the 'ridiculosity' of my life.
That was freaking funny, dude. Thanks for sharing that.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you're blogging these non-school stories too, so it will make it easy when you're ready to publish your book/screenplay. I love the "where's your daddy?" part. So is it back to Carnap now?
ReplyDeleteI laughed out loud at the job-offer to John - imagine! Great anecdote. Surely you must have a stash of these.
ReplyDeleteBtw, though I really appreciate your concession to blind old ladies, now that you've changed the font, it really doesn't have to be so big.
So . . . Carnap.