This happened at one of my shows recently. A lady comes to my merchandise table outside the showroom while the other comic is on stage. She hands me a $10 bill and said she wants a CD. Then she tells me that her husband doesn’t want her to spend the money. So if he asks I’m to say that she showed me her tits in exchange for a CD.
I’m not sure how that was better than dropping $10. But it did give me just a little insight into their marriage. In my head it was as if millions of marriage counselors suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.
I assume my CD will be a disputed item during their inevitable divorce proceedings.
Has she used this ploy before? Does her husband wonder how she comes home with “free” groceries all the time?
Part of me wanted to give her the ten back and hold her to telling the truth. Lying in a relationship is bad. So, you know, it would be for the sake of her marriage. The other part of me remembered that my car doesn’t run on boobs.
But honestly, she was making mountains out of molehills. There wasn’t much happening under that training bra. Jack Black has a bigger rack than this lady. And I don’t really care if she has a small chest. That doesn’t make her any less of a woman. But look, you don’t walk into a Lamborghini dealership with a McDonalds gift card.
If I were actually going to do this deal it might be a couple of download tracks, but probably not a whole CD. Or maybe she gives me a flash and a fiver.
I was hoping she and her husband would just quietly slide out after the show. Nope. They and all their friends show up back at my merch table. Her husband says, “So I hear you got a treat…” At least he didn’t sound happy about it. I was worried they were the kind of couple that BOTH wink at you at the bar. I just kind of said, “Uh, yeah. Perks of the job, I guess.” and moved on to talking to someone else.
So of course her friend goes, “She got a CD just for showing you her tits? I’ve got bigger tits than she does! I want a t-shirt!” And I’m starting to fear a pleasurable yet financially disastrous chain reaction of me doling out t-shirts to women who won’t even keep them on.
I told her I can’t do that because the shirts cost me more and I was sold out of CDs. And I suspect she’d have been pretty pissed if she had flashed me and then found out later that her friend was lying. Thankfully instead she just gave me $15 for the shirt.
And so kids, this story ends not with a moral to carry with you, nor with an hysterical punch line. My life simply goes on with twenty-five more dollars and 4 less boobs in it. Maybe I’ll call my next album Anti-Climax.
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