It’s like this and like that and like this and uh…I need to become black by Thursday

OMG. Remember that time I wanted to be exactly like Erykah Badu?

So the other day my good friend MsDarkstar forwarded me an email from someone who owns a private membership sex hotel and is looking to employ me as a once a month blog writer.


Woot! Woot!

But not so much with the yay and woot-woot because when I spoke with him on the phone he said I’m “too white” and that his audience is young, urban, upscale and mainly black–think Kanye West drinking Hennessey and blaming it on the ah-ah-ah-alcohol.

See? That’s all I know about young, urban, upscale, black folks–they blame it on the ah-ah-ah-alcohol. Actually, so do I, so maybe we are more alike my friends than we are unalike? (what poem is that from? High five to the Queefie who gets it without Googling).

Clearly, I’m in over my head with my skinny white ass.

Did Eminem ever fret so? I think not. He’s not from Rhode Island: Home of the White People.

But before giving up, I’m going to give it a whirl because I have managed to fool some people on the Interwebz into thinking I’m pretty and funny and interesting, so maybe I can fool people into thinking I’m young, urban, upscale, and black, too.

Maybe I am *that good* of a writer. This has yet to be tested.

Just in case though, I emailed my only black friend to see if maybe she’d just want the job instead and even she was like “I still say things like get jiggy with it and what up? I can’t do it! Totally not up my alley.” Okay, so if my hot black friend who lives in a city isn’t comfortable, how will I ever pull this off?

So, at the suggestion of a white friend who has a black friend (are you still with me?), I bought a bottle of Hennessey, “cause’ dat’s wass hood” and spent the whole weekend pretending to be P-Diddy.

Other than having a pretty dope collection of new designer sunglasses and several children by different Babymamas, I’m still no blacker than I was, and so I’m still fucked.

The trouble is, aside from my one black friend, I don’t actually know any black people. I grew up in and still live in a part of the country where there really aren’t any black folks around. They’re like, a novelty around here. In fact, when I was telling Lynne about this gig, she looked out to the lobby of the library and was like “OMG! THERE’S A BLACK PERSON IN THE LOBBY RIGHT NOW!! YOU WANT ME TO SEE IF HE’LL BE YOUR FRIEND?” I said “no” because there was no guarantee that he was the right type of black person I need to help me find my voice for this particular gig.

And that was the last black person that either I or anyone else I know has seen in days and now I’ve got a raging Hennessey hangover and nothing written for my Thursday deadline.

Maybe the Queefies can help me. What sort of topics would Kanye West be interested in reading about with regard to having sex in private membership sex hotels? Think Toy with Me only Kanye West is writing it and not me. Or Beyonce, except I’m a much better dancer than she is.

GO! Mama needs a new car and it ain’t gonna buy itself!

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  1. It’s a black thing, pimp! I don’t have the booty for Jeggings! You gotta have a little junk in the trunk. Something to put your drink on, saddle up and ride…

  2. There’s a bunch of romance novels written by black authors. Maybe you could try power reading one or two by Thursday? Maybe throw some Marvin Gaye on…(and Mister likes this plan already).

  3. Come visit me at work. It’s not far from you, maybe 20 minutes? We have plenty of black employees who are great, one whom I’m very good friends with. I’m sure she’d love to school you! Then there are of course those patients that I’ve gotten that “whitey” and “cracker” nasty comments, they probably would’nt school you though.

  4. Hhhmmmm, this may sound sterotypical. Don’t most rich Africian American males want to score a smookin blond? (OJ did, but let’s not go there – bad ending). Perhaps write about how KW would tap Taylor the hawt blond Swift. Good luck – you can do this!

  5. You should get a Black Planet account. It’ll be a quick education for ya. Or if all else fails you can borrow my brother in law. He’s black AND he lives in RI. Amazing. He’s my go to guy for questions like, “What exactly is ‘riding dirty?” and “What does Alize taste like?”
    .-= Joanna’s last blog post… Phun in Philly- Days One and Two =-.

  6. I’m as white as they come, but I did read about #sidechickappreciationday on twitter, and it seemed to be a fitting topic for a sex hotel!

  7. Your mistake was using Hennessey instead of Twister or Night Train. You want black, you got to drink black. REAL black, not just tan.

  8. For starters, the poem is totally Maya Angelou, but I can’t remember the title. (Fellow Lit geek in da house!)

    Secondly, since I’m pretty sure black people and white people all have sex pretty much the same way, why is it necessary to “ghetto up” you language? Did he specifically request you to uphold all stereotypes about skin color equating to poor grammar?

  9. A private sex motel, it that a prostitution house? I have been to 2 sex clubs in my life. You have to go in with a date. You can’t go alone. My date took me to a lingerie show. They started modeling these see though nighties. The place was packed. The guy I was with said “Lets go upstairs and look around. We walked upstairs and there were rooms with beds. No one was in them. There was this couch in a room with a tv that was playing porn. We sat on the couch for a bit. Then this other couple came in and sat down and the lady just whipped open her legs and showed everything, no underwear and started rubbing herself and looking at us. I got up and left. I watched the fashion downstairs. Then guys would walk up to me and start talking to me. I felt real uncomfortable and left.
    The second one, was in New York. You went in and got a locker and took off your clothes and got a towel. Then you go sit in a hottub. People were in rooms upstairs, there were people all over having sex. The guy I went to visit took me there. I was very drunk. I didn’t want to be there either, so we left and went dancing. If you are into having sex with strangers, then you go there.
    .-= Connie t’s last blog post… Grillin my steaks =-.

  10. Girl you will be fantastic at this! Go watch “friday” and maybe some Big mama movies adn you’ll be in….ooh better yet “set it off” with Queen Latifah! Oh i cat wait to see where this goes!
    Not to mention its a fantastic thing to have on your resume!
    .-= Crystal’s last blog post… Iphone Apps for Women! =-.

  11. That’s all Ken need to hear Melissa Lion. They’ve gotten the official Melissa Lion endorsement. I will have a pair by the weekend if he has anything to say about it.

    And no people, nobody wants me to “ghetto up” sex. I just can’t write like a white girl. Like, I can’t say “like” and “totally” and “OMG.” Plus I have to try to channel the smooth upscaleness of a contemporary urban hotel. Also, it’s not a sex club. It’s a hotel where people go to have sex.

  12. Wouldn’t that make all hotels illegal? Name a hotel where people go to NOT have sex. 😉

    … or, really and truly, a hotel where no one has ever ever ever had sex. I don’t think they exist.

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