The Last Black Unicorn - Tiffany Haddish Page 0,30

really accomplished a lot.

• • •

Eventually, I started pimping Titus’s male friends. One of his boys—we called him Goliath because he was so huge—heard what I had been doing for Bertha. He asked me if I could set him up, too. I started off getting him some pornos, and those went well. Then something else came up.

I was still doing Bar Mitzvahs on the weekends, and of course, if you’re doing Bar Mitzvahs, you’re going to meet old Jewish ladies. I met a lot of lonely ones, and I got to be friends with them. Then they started telling me how lonely they were and saying things like, “My husband’s not satisfying me.”

I remember the first conversation that started it. I had just finished a Bar Mitzvah practice, and was about to leave.

Jewish Lady: “No, Tiff. Stay. Have a glass of wine with me. I don’t really have a lot of friends. My husband has all the friends. I don’t really have anybody to hang out with. It’s kind of lonely in this big old house.”

I thought this was kind of weird, but this was a rich lady, so whatever. I’d talk to her. She did seem lonely. She was telling me about how her husband’s never at home, how her sex life was down the drain.

Jewish Lady: “I feel like I’m a virgin again. He doesn’t touch me or anything.”

Tiffany: “Oh, wow.”

Jewish Lady: “So who are you dating? I bet you date hot guys.”

Tiffany: “I do okay.”

We had this same conversation, like, three times, until I finally got fed up.

Tiffany: “Girl, why don’t you just buy some dick? You should come with me to the strip club and just check it out.”

Jewish Lady: “Oh, no. I couldn’t be seen in a place where men are dancing.”

Tiffany: “Well, just buy some. They won’t tell nobody. Just keep it on the down low.”

Jewish Lady: “On the down low?”

I straight up had to play some R. Kelly, “Down Low” for her, to explain what that meant.

She gave me this crazy look, like a kid that stole candy.

Jewish Lady: “I’ve never been with a black guy. I would love a strong black man. What’s it like doing a black guy?”

Tiffany: “Well . . . they be smelling like cocoa butter. That’s nice. They be all strong, and they dicks are so powerful. If you find a man with an ass, oh my God. It’s just so good. They pick you up. It’s just good. It just depends on who you get with, though. But they can be good.”

Jewish Lady: “That’s what I need.”

Tiffany: “But you know, any guy could be really great, if you guys have a connection and stuff.”

Jewish Lady: “I don’t need the connection. I’m married. I just need to have an orgasm. I just want to feel ravaged.”

She started showing me these romance novels she had. All her romance novels were like, I don’t know. She had one that was like a slave thing or whatever. It was a big, strapping black guy on the cover, holding this passed-out white woman.

Tiffany: “Well, I don’t know any slaves, but I could probably hook you up with somebody big and strong.”

So I hooked her up with Titus’s boy, Goliath. She’d give me $200, I’d take $50, give the rest to Goliath, and then set up the meeting.

Then she introduced me to another lady. I linked her up with another guy that was a friend of Goliath. It was kind of like word of mouth, and I started having a lot of clients.

One lady wanted a strong white man. I didn’t know any huge white guys, but I used to be in Venice Beach a lot, and I met this dude on the boardwalk.

Tiffany: “Hey, would you ever fuck for money?”

Big White Dude: “Yeah. Of course.”

Just like that. Pimping dudes was easy.

The problem was that I wasn’t really necessary. A lot of these guys, once I introduced them and got my $50, they started hooking up with these chicks on their own, doing their own thing. Which makes sense, to be honest. Aside from the intro, they didn’t need me.

So I ended up getting out of pimping, because I didn’t make much money. It’s just not a lucrative business, selling dick. Dick ain’t really all that hard to come by.

Roscoe the Handicapped Angel

In my early twenties, I worked the ticket counter at an airline. When you checked in to your flight, I was the girl who printed your ticket and tagged your bags.

Roscoe