My friends love this one.
So when I was younger I had a job hosting/emceeing comedy night at a popular NYC club. One night Martin Lawrence came in with a couple of NY Knicks. We met and I had him crackin up. He insisted that I try out for Def Comedy Jam (which I did).
Anyway, while we were hangin out in the VIP this woman comes up to me. Oooooo weeeee. She had that good skin, the bright brown that glistens with no glitter on it. Ponytail was perfect. (Just long enough to be real, instead of the long package of Panamanian hair you get from the Chinamen). We talk for a minute and exchange numbers. (I learned later thru experience never trust women whose names are adjectives: I.E. Thickness, Wetness)
I went to her apt on the 10th floor of some projects in the Bronx a week later. We were watching a movie and chillin when she hears a voice in the hall and jumps up. She says “oh shit, my husband is home early!” I had a lotta questions but it wasn’t the time to ask them. “Why didn’t you say you were married? Why would you have me here?” Etc. I had to think fast. I grabbed the pizza box and stood by the door. He came in lookin like he had picked cotton next to Kunta and Chicken George all week. He was massive. I calmly said to her. “Sorry about that, I’ll see if your extra cheese pie is in the car. Ill be right back.” He looked confused but I made it past him.
As I got to the steps he came running out yelling. I ran down the stairs and I could hear him making all these crazy bird sounds. As he did that, doors were opening and dudes were joining him on the chase. I was jumping down whole flights of stairs. When I got to the last flight there was this butch chick, wait, am I allowed to say that in this climate? Correction, a non-fem lesbian American was at the bottom of the stairs in a fighting stance talkin bout I got him. I didn’t even slow down. I smeared her across the wall like peanut butter. I ran across the courtyard with 30 plus dudes after me and jumped in my car and pulled off.
A week later the woman said I should come back, because he works doubles now lol. She said I was a man, this is what we all are down for, and she couldn’t grasp why I didn’t talk to her again.
Quashon Davis is the best-selling Author of Masquerade and The Dirty Circle. As an avid writer since the age of twelve, Quashon has also been a journalist, on-air host, sports analyst, and tester of exotic poisons. Between guzzling Chik Fil-A strawberry milkshakes and chowing down on pizza. Quashon still somehow manages to crank out thrilling page-turners that his fans have come to enjoy.