Screwing Sedaris

Last Saturday, I was the featured storyteller in an improv series called Lafayette Famous. I was asked to prepare three true stories from my life to be delivered onstage, while the improvisers created scenes based on themes from each. This is the one of those true stories, written as a monologue.

Story 1: Screwing Sedaris

So one of my heroes of writing is, of course, David Sedaris (you know, like a white person). And about a year ago, he’s out promoting his new book and I find out he’s doing a signing at the Barnes & Noble in Baton Rouge. So on the day of, I leave work a little early and I head over there.

I should also mention that I am wearing some kind of western button-down, with cut-off shorts, and these really kindof ridiculous combat boots.

So I get to the B&N and I’m standing in this really long line and I’m holding my book and I’m completely by myself. And then this woman with a Manager ID badge around her neck comes over and just starts talking to me. And her name is Courtney and she’s a really nice lady, but I can’t shake that something feels a little off, like “Why are you talking to me?” So at one point she’s like, “Look, if you want to, I can get you some one-on-one time with David.” So of course I say “Of course.” And she’s like “Well after he signs your book, come around and stand by me, and I’ll introduce you more personally after.” And I’m like “Great” and then she walks off and I’m just standing there like “WHY?!”

Now, in my mind, I make the decision that David Sedaris [the internationally famous writer and memoirist], has seen me and has asked this woman to come arrange for my company. Ya know, like he wants to fuck me. Like he’s a rapper and I’m some ho. Like he goes to his own book readings and rounds up dumb, eager gays to bang. So then I start getting nervous — asking myself questions like: “Am I willing to do this?”

So he finally shows up and I’m slowly moving to the front of the line and I’m pretty much about to puke. And Courtney the manager is standing there and she winks at me and I’m like, “Fuck you for putting me in this situation.”

And then I get to the front of the line and David looks me up and down and says, “Now that’s what I’m talking about.

[LONG PAUSE]

Where on earth did you get those boots!?” And “I’m like, “…What?” and he’s like, “I absolutely love them. Do you watch RuPaul’s Drag Race?” And now I’m just struggling to keep up at this point, and I don’t even know what I’m saying because I still believe if I’m being pre-interviewed to fuck this aging literary icon. So after a while, he grabs my book and signs it and then Courtney grabs me and pulls me off to this side and she’s like, “Wait here with me.”

I’m sweating through my shirt and thinking: “This was not on my bucket list. And I don’t want my hero to use me like this.” So I tell her “I’m gotta take a piss.” And then I walk right past this long line of people and I head right out the door and I’m practically sprinting through the parking lot and this gay guy is getting out his car and he yells, “HEY! WHAT WAS HE LIKE?!”

And I yell back, “HE’S HORNY!” And get in my car and I drive back to Lafayette.

Sexting Mom

Last Saturday, I was the featured storyteller in an improv series called Lafayette Famous. I was asked to prepare three true stories from my life to be delivered onstage, while the improvisers created scenes based on themes from each. This is the one of those true stories, written as a monologue.

Story 2: Sexting Mom

So when I was in college, I dated this guy for years and we had a very healthy sex life. And we were actually very sweet to each other too: We would walk to class together and often run into each other on campus.

Well one day, I pass him on Rex Street and we kiss each other and we keep walking in opposite directions. So I arrive at my Louisiana Folklore class and I sit down, and I get a text from my boyfriend and it says the grossest, most sexually explicit thing I’ve ever read.

Then I get a text from my mom and I hurry up and close that and go back to my boyfriend’s text.

So now he and I are sexting, right? And now I have to top his text, so I write something even more graphic. I’ve probably said grosser things by now because I’ve gotten more creative with age, but at the time, my response painted a pretty disgusting picture of what I wanted this boy to do to me — using words like “ride” and “squirt” and “chest.”

So I send it, and I wait for a response. But nothing. 10 minutes and nothing.

Then I get this sinking feeling in my stomach and I check my outbox and realize something:

[LONG PAUSE]

I accidently sent the text to my mom.

Sitting there in my Louisiana Folklore class, I have a full-blown panic attack and turn beet-red and grip the edges of my desk and make all these weird noises and Dr. Wilkerson comes over and she’s like “Hey, what’s wrong?!” And I say, “It’s my mom!” Which is a very scary thing to say.

And then my mom texted me back.

And it said:

“That was obviously not for me. I’m very disturbed.”

And I didn’t go home to New Orleans for three months.

Meeting Audrey

Last Saturday, I was the featured storyteller in an improv series called Lafayette Famous. I was asked to prepare three true stories from my life to be delivered onstage, while the improvisers created scenes based on themes from each. This is the one of those true stories, written as a monologue.

Story 3: Meeting Audrey

I recently became a godfather and I’d like to tell you story about the first time I met my goddaughter, Audrey.

My cousin Lauren was due on October 24th and she lives in New Orleans, so I made sure that I was in town for that entire weekend. Well, the due date comes and goes and the nurses tell her that they’re just going to induce the following Tuesday.

So Saturday morning, my best friend John tells me he has an extra ticket to this big Halloween Party called Hell’s Gala that night. So I’m like “Yeah, I really really want to come, but my cousin was having contractions earlier and I should just check in with her and make sure the baby isn’t coming tonight.” So I call Lauren and she says, I’m here at the hospital but they might send me home because my contractions aren’t nearly close enough together.” So I took that as, “Go ahead and party.”

So I dress up as a slice of pepperoni pizza and I paint my face with little olives and pepperonis and me and John go out. And we have a long history of pushing our night to the max where we fit everything possible into one night and we will drink like monsters and its only by the grace of God that we’re still alive—and I fucking mean that. So we go to this pre-party at this GORGEOUS loft in the warehouse district and we have a photoshoot in their copper clawfoot tub and John walks up to one of the party guests and he’s like “UM. Are you on American Horror Story?!” and I’m like “Just because she’s a black woman does not mean she’s Angela Bassett. And the woman actually tuned out to be Lynn Whitfield from the Tyler Perry movies and I was like “Well, you were close.”

We finally head out to Hell’s Gala where we make this big scene and then we grab a cab to Bourbon where run into my friend Travis. And this is where things get hazy.

The next thing I remember is sitting in a cab at 3:30AM and looking down at my phone to see 26 missed calls and a text that reads, “she’s here!” So I flip OUTTTTTT and I tell the driver to drive faster and I get to my car, and I drive all the way to Ochsner in Metairie and throw the car into park right on the street and I’m sprinting down hallways, screaming “LABOR AND DELIVERY!” And somehow, I find my family in one of the waiting rooms and I run over and I’m sweating and they’re just staring at me. And that’s when I realize I’m still dressed up like a slice of pizza. And everyone is laughing at me. So my aunt Lisa comes out from the back and ushers me into this dimly lit room where there’s this baby and I just see her and I lose it. I’m crying and I’m in love with her. And I’m promising to buy her a car and ponies and pay for private school and then they let me hold her and I’m kissing her and sobbing and I’m overwhelmed like I’ve never been before.

This goes on for hours. I climb into bed with Lauren and I run my fingers through her hair and I’m kissing her. And at no point does it occur to me that this behavior is odd and my parents are staring at me. And finally, at one point, I put on Dancing In The Moonlight, and I dance all over the room with this baby in my arms because I wanted to be the first person to dance with her.

And while the song is playing, my phone dings, so I check it and there’s a text from my friend Travis who I ran into earlier on Bourbon.

And it reads, “Hey man. Is that ecstasy kicking in yet?”