One night while walking through the Lower Eastside, I stumbled on a little Latin club with a sign out front that read: $3 Tequila Shots. I didn’t have anything else to do so I went in. I was the only Black person in the entire place, so I pretty much stayed to myself at the bar. Then after about 6 shots, I eventually noticed this woman across the room in a bright red shawl sort of giving me the eye.
I could already tell from where I stood that she wasn’t all that cute. But I was drunk and by this time really horny, so naturally I said “what the hell”. I walked over and introduced myself, and after a few minutes of talking she finally decided to remove her shawl. Then to my surprise, suddenly out popped this little miniature baby arm with a stubby little hand on the end of it with about 3.5 fingers on it.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Her left arm was completely normal. However, her right arm was only about 11 inches long and just sort of dangled up by her chest kind of like a T Rex. At first I thought maybe it was just me; after all I was pretty damn smashed, so I then tried to shake it off. However when I opened my eyes again the funny little dinosaur arm was still there. I thought, “WTF?”
I was absolutely devastated. I mean, are you even allowed to just spring a little baby arm on people without some kind of a warning? This hardly seemed fair. That’s when it hit me. I, Brett Sanders had just been hoodwinked. She purposely used the old “bait & switch” by leading with her good arm while covering up her little baby arm. My theory was that she knew very well that any descent guy with a conscious could never just run off the second she hit him with the old peek a boo. So a result, the poor guy would be trapped into staying. Dare I say it was genius; like one sick game of poker. Old One Armed Sally was calling my bluff, and I wasn’t about to fold.
So naturally I just continued on with the conversation as if everything was just normal. Score one for the kid. I even tried to pretend like I didn’t even see it at all, which was pretty damn difficult. Specially seeing how she was one of those people who constantly uses their hands to emphasize every single point. I figured she must have been on to me too, because she then suddenly began gesturing and pointing with her dead claw even more than ever. At one point she even used it to throw her hair out of her face, which after 6 shots of tequila really f*ked me up. I thought, “Touche! This bitch is obviously a professional.” Nevertheless, I thought just as long as the DJ didn’t put on Madonna’s Vogue, I was determined to stand my ground.
After 3 more shots she eventually wanted to dance, so she pulled me out on the floor. Now here I am, the only brother in the place, drunk out my mind and Salsa dancing with a girl with a little T- Rex arm. Somehow this was not what I envisioned for my Saturday night. Although the entire room was doing Salsa, I knew there was no way in hell I was touching that little dead hand. So thinking fast on my feet, I immediately broke into the Electric Slide. I tried to get her to join in too, but she still insisted on trying to do her Salsa moves with me anyway. At one point she even twirled herself into me and attempted a dip, but unfortunately ended up careening backwards into a row of tables and chairs with drinks on them. Being that I’m not a total ass, out of sheer humanity, I did at least try to catch her. But unfortunate for her, she reached out to me with the wrong hand, because there was still no way in hell I was touching that nub. Thank God those bouncers were there to help her up. By the time she got herself back together, I was already back at the bar for last call.
Believe it or not, but this is where the story really gets crazy. At some point I must’ve blacked out, because when I woke up we were now both at her apartment in the Bronx getting busy. I’m pretty sure she slipped me a ruffie, because when I came to– I was literally laying on my back with her on top riding my penis. It was like that show Quantum Leap gone wrong. Now I’m not sure if it was the ruffie or the 11 tequila shots, but to my surprise it actually suddenly started to feel a little good. I mean for a one armed girl, this girl apparently had a few tricks up her sleeve.
However the only thing that kept throwing me off, was that her little baby arm just sort of dangled there the entire time. And because I was drunk, for some reason I kept thinking she was waving hello to me. So I kept saying “Hi” back. It was really starting to freak me out, so I tried to cover it up by hanging my hat on her nub, but unfortunately it just kept slipping off. I realized this position wasn’t going to work, so I then flipped her around and got on top. However now, I realized that her little claw was even closer to my face. I just couldn’t win.
I tried to just block it out of my head and get through it, but then the next thing you know she began slapping me in the face with it and yelling, “You like that..huh? You like that?” This was really turning into the night from hell. The moment I felt her little clammy hand on my face I literally almost died. Trying to keep my cool I replied, “Hey… can you maybe find something else to do with that?” She replied “sure.. what?”, so I added “I don’t know. Anything…but that.” Then just as I was finally about to climax, would you believe she had the nerve to lick her 2 of her little munchkin fingers and then stick them inside my mouth. Talk about a mood killer.
Not only did I scream bloody murder, if memory serves me I think I tossed her clear off me to the other side of the room. I couldn’t get out of that house fast enough. I grabbed my clothes and ran out to the curb, where I proceeded to throw up about everything I had to eat that past year. As soon as I got home, I jumped straight in the shower with all my clothes on, and sat there in the fetal position crying for nearly 3 hours. And to this day, I have still yet to have another drink.
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Today had to be the worst day of my entire life, hands down. For starters; my alarm clock didn’t go off which made me super late for my big meeting. And in all the madness of rushing out the door to get to the train, I accidentally ran out of the house without my pants. Believe it or not, I made it six whole blocks before I realized I still had on my damn long johns. Picture me running down the street like a madman, with my briefcase, suit jacket; and a pair of long john bottoms. And not just any long johns, but my favorite pair. You know; the ones I’ve slept in every single night since college. The ones that are so worn that the entire ass is gone; and despite all the new ones I get from my mom every year, I still wear because they’re so damn comfortable, and just one step away from sleeping naked. The worst part is, I didn’t even discover it until I went to pull out my metro card. There’s nothing like getting to the station and reaching back for your wallet, and instead grabbing your bare ass. Talk about awkward. I guess in hind sight; there were quite a few people pointing at me and shouting obscenities, while they covered their kid’s eyes. But hell, I just thought it was because I was Black. Of course there was also the cool breeze I felt across my ass as I ran. But, I just assumed that was my new peppermint lotion.
By the time I actually made it to the city, I was 15 minutes late for my meeting. I’d been working all year on this enormous copier deal with a company called Christian Leadership Alliance, and I was finally invited to speak to their board. The meeting was in this really fancy restaurant, and by the time I arrived everyone was already seated around the board table eating. The CEO was just beginning his address so I figured I had just enough time to grab myself a quick coffee from the set up in the back. I noticed they had those really fancy green latte mugs like the French place near my house: the really big ceramic ones without the stems. So, I poured myself a cup and discreetly sat down at the table. Looking around the room I realized not only was I the only Black person there, I was the only one under 65. Naturally I felt a little bit out of place. Just as I was sipping my coffee, the CEO stopped his speech, looked directly at me and said, “Excuse me…but why do you have a bowl of coffee?” As I looked around the table, I couldn’t believe what I had done. I was drinking my coffee out of a damn cereal bowl. Now completely on the spot; the only thing I could think to say was, “Oh I’m sorry, I just really like the coffee here.” It’s safe to say the meeting wasn’t exactly off to a great start.
Eventually it was time for my big sales presentation. I’m really good with people so I thought, “Okay, this is my chance to wow them.” So I connected my lap top to the projector on the table, and began my spiel: “Hello, I’d like to begin with a little introductory video we like to show all our perspective clients. I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it.” Then, instead of selecting the file on my lap top marked “MFP” (Multi-Functional Printer), I accidentally selected the wrong one marked “MP”; which stands for Midget Porn. Let’s just say, I don’t think anyone in that room was ready for what came next. If you follow this column at all, then you already know how much I love my midget porn. As luck would have it, this was the absolute most filthy gang bang midget flick I had in my entire collection. I mean, this REALLY was a good one. It’s called Kitchen Midgets 2, and it has pretty much an all star line up of midget porn stars including: Teeny Weenie, Tiny Vaginy, both Bridget and Twidget the Midgets (which as you know is a HUGE deal, seeing how it’s the first time they’ve appeared together on film since the big knife fight in Encino), and rounding up the cast was Baby Gangsta; who’s basically the 50 Cent of midget porn, but nowhere near as nice.
There were midgets doing things on that screen you couldn’t imagine even in your wildest midget fantasies. There were midgets doing it inside of refrigerators; 69′ing on top of ovens; and tossing all kind of salads both literally and figuratively. And then a grand finale that featured Baby Gangsta riding in on the back of a pit bull. All I have to say is, I’m sure glad that pit bull got the hell out of that kitchen when he did. He obviously saw what happened to the one in Kitchen Midgets 1. Before I knew it, the entire board room had broken into complete pandemonium. There were people screaming, crying, and doing Hail Marys. One lady even threw up, which if you ask me was taking it a little too far. In all the chaos I tried to stop the clip, but my lap top froze up so I couldn’t turn the damn thing off. Finally with no other choice, I just kicked my lap top clear off the table. It was the only thing I could think to do to make it stop. Sure, looking back I guess I could’ve just unplugged it. But if you know me at all, you know I don’t exactly think straight during a crisis. Not only was I escorted out of the building again by security. I am now out of an $800 Dell lap top, which I have the right mind to send the Christian Leadership Academy an invoice for.
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African American leaders protest blatant snubbing of Rosetta Stone from Black History
Washington DC. In a press conference this morning that ran on “CP Time”, which basically for all of the white reporters in the room translated to 45 minutes late. African American leaders gathered at our Nation’s Capital, to call for a boycott against Black History Month. “Not only is it the shortest month of the year”, remarked NAAACP Chairmen Nipsey Edward Russell the 3rd “but in 28 days of Black History programming on every network from HGTV to Telemundo. Once again, the great African American female abolitionist Rosetta Stone wasn’t mentioned one single time. And we aren’t going to stand for it anymore!”
According to Curtis Bronson, one of the 700 gathered protesters outside on the mall, “It’s a shame that an old slave woman could make all those different language CD’s at a time when most slaves didn’t even have Walkmans, and still year after year be left out of Black History Month.” An unidentified protester shouted in the background, “Them Mother F*ckers Susan Luccied her is what they did!” At that point, the entire crowd locked arms reminiscent to the great March on Washington, and in unison all began to sing last year’s R&B anthem Blame It, by Jamie Fox (featuring T. Pain). When asked why they chose such a seemingly odd song for the occasion, Civil Rights Leader and Chief Organizer Jesse Jackson explained, “No particular reason, we just really like the beat. We were all going to do Single Ladies. But Al was worried about sweating his hair out.”
When we teach our kids about all of the important Black pioneers that died for our freedom; African Americans and about a hand full of Mexicans are simply asking that Rosetta Stone be included in the history books as well. In a moving speech Civil Rights Activist and Ex Pimp Reverend Al Sharpton exclaimed:
“If you ask me, it’s downright deplorable that we spend so much time learning about some old madam who’s famous for combing a few naps out of her hoe’s heads, instead of people that really made a difference in this country. Big deal, Madam CJ Walker wasn’t genius…she just didn’t like naps in her damn head. Meanwhile Rosetta an old slave woman, managed to make 52 different languages CD’s; all while helping to free the slaves along the Underground Railroad, and no one even so much as says a peep. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves as a people.”
By the time Reverend Sharpton was finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Including Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, who later admitted:
“I actually never heard of Rosetta, but she sounds like she was a remarkable woman. Truthfully, I just dropped by because I love the little snack biscuits they always set out for all the Negro conferences. They remind me of the ones our dear old house keeper Big Mama used to make when I was a kid. Then she’d corn row my hair out on the back porch, and share with me the most touching prison lesbian stories while we shared a pack of Kool’s. ”
With tears in her eyes, Clinton tossed the last six biscuits in her purse and ran off to her office; angering the co host of The View’s Sherri Shepherd. It’s still unclear whether Secretary Clinton was crying over Sharpton’s speech or the little snack sized butter biscuits.
The blatant snubbing of Rosetta Stone from Black History Month is no doubt a travesty. Even Rosa Parks was awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor just for refusing to sit on the back of a bus. If my memory serves me correct, I don’t even think they had seats on the Underground Railroad. Yet we treat old Rosa like she parted The Red Sea. So where is Rosetta’s Parade? Where is her Grammy winning rap song featuring Big Boy and Andre 2000? Not only did Rosetta free all the slaves on foot; but amazingly enough, she managed to learn Cantonese and German along the way. Do you know how difficult it is to learn Cantonese, running through a pitch black swamp with a pack of Basset Hounds hot on your ass? That’s what you call some serious multitasking. Rosetta gives a whole new meaning to the term “a woman on the move”. So as an African American, it deeply disturbs me that poor Rosetta never gets her just due.
In a separate yet related interview, legendary poet and Oscar nominee for her spell bounding portrayal of E.T in Steven Speilburg’s cult classic; Maya Angelou stated:
“It really chaps my saggy ass whenever I turn on BET and see someone like Fantasia getting her 2nd Life Time Achievement Award, when sisters in the struggle like Rosetta still have never even so much as gotten a damn Lady Of Soul Award. Afterwords for some reason, Maya then decided to surprise the crowd with a 35 minute impromptu poem about the last time her, Oprah, and Gayle went to Popeye’s Chicken.
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Stop the press!!! I just found out that Yvonne the Ghetto Receptionist speaks Chinese. WTF??? If you follow Brett and the City, then you know all too well who Yvonne the Receptionist is, and just why this statement is so shocking. For those of you who may be new to the column, before you go any further, I’d strongly suggest that you stop right now and immediately read the previous post titled: Meet Yvonne the Receptionist.
I used to refer to Yvonne as “the most ghetto receptionist in the world”; but after careful deliberation, I am afraid I’m actually going to have to retract that statement. A woman whose cell phone was once actually repossessed for failing to make her weekly payment to Tuffy’s Rent-a-Phone; and a woman who every Monday makes a giant pitcher of Kool-Aid at her desk to last her through the week. The word “ghetto”, would actually be considered a step up. Perhaps even something for Yvonne to aspire to. With our office being located merely steps away from Manhattan’s Red Light District: we often have to walk past all the local undesirables to get to work. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen random street hookers, literally point and laugh at Yvonne as she struts by in one of her infamous work outfits. When your taste is so bad that even common street whores have lost respect for you; I can honestly say that’s probably not a good thing. Truthfully even when I first met Yvonne, not knowing: during my interview I commented to the CEO, how admirable it was that he participated in the State’s “Prison to Work” program. Boy did I feel stupid when he told me he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. In my defense I explained, “I’m sorry; Yvonne just has the essence of a woman, struggling to ease back into the work force, after having just done a 7 to 10. But in a good way of course.”
