once you go African-American ... shit, nothing rhymes with that
Yesterday I had a run-in on the 4 train with that guy who does impressions of subway noises ("Boooop. Please stand clear of the closing doors."), and then does a little shtick and sings this song (you know the tune):
You just call on your brother
When you need a hand
We all need some money
To shop at Pathmark
As part of his little comedy routine, he directed the car's attention to me, commented that he liked white girls, and gave several variations on the theme of "once you go black, you never go back." He asked if I'd ever had a black man, and then turned to me conspiratorially and whispered "Don't answer! It's part of my act!"
You just call on your brother
When you need a hand
We all need some money
To shop at Pathmark
As part of his little comedy routine, he directed the car's attention to me, commented that he liked white girls, and gave several variations on the theme of "once you go black, you never go back." He asked if I'd ever had a black man, and then turned to me conspiratorially and whispered "Don't answer! It's part of my act!"
Labels: New York





2 Comments:
Ha ha ha! That guy cracks me up! I think he cracks himself up, too. You'd have to smoke somethin' to do comedy in the subway. Do you know how many people have told me that would be a great idea? Ahh!
You know what we should do? Next time we have a comedy gig together, we should go on the L train (or somewhere where we'd be likely to be appreciated) with a box of Peanut M&Ms, and do that whole routine about "We are here selling M&Ms, it's not for no basketball team or class trip, it's for us, to keep us out of trouble and off the streets." And then when everyone looks in disbelief at the two white girls selling M&Ms, we could just hand out comedy flyers instead.
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