Sunday, October 26, 2008

It said "Beefsteak" Bitch!

I didn't mean to pull a disappearing act on you all but wow this has been a hectic week for me. I had a big story to write (still not done by the way), two doctor's appointments, I moved back into my apartment (huge ordeal), unpacked all the crap I had somehow managed to accumulate at my parents' house, felt like a horse kicked me after having a flu shot, and of course I welcomed my parents back home. They got here yesterday and I was very happy to see them. Of course they brought many, interesting and exciting stories with them from their year in Los Angeles. One of them I must share with you all right now.

My mother recently mentioned this and a few people got all up in arms because the story involved an individual who currently identifies as female but may or may not have at one point had a penis. This story is not intended to say anything remotely bad about transexual people. They can't help being born that way. It is an extremely difficult life because of so many fears and prejudices directed at them, so I in no way want to perpetuate something that awful and as a matter of fact I have, in the past, worked with two transexual people and found them to be lovely people. Also, the verdict is still out on whether or not LaShay is transexual, so I'm just going to act like she's a regular woman and let you make your own decisions. I'd also like to add that while I am all about love and rights and respect for transexual people, I do think it's wrong to lie, directly or by omission, about something that big to a potential partner, which could be happening in this situation. And no matter what your genitalia is or was, it's wrong to take advantage of mentally challenged people, and that is for sure happening. I fear another Brad-like situation is going down with Dougie.

You may recall that Dougie is the guy my parents picked up and had living with them for the past five months out in LA. Dougie is slow. No one knows exactly what is wrong with him, but it's something. Most evidence points to a brain injury of some kind which Dougie received some money for, because he isn't poor. I'm not saying he's exactly rich either, but he has enough to get by without working. My mother alluded to him doing some kind of work at home thing, but I don't quite know what it is or if it's true. Anyway, he's been with my family since last May and my parents gave him a makeover and started taking him places and he started to make friends for the first time in his life. Maybe it was the Ed Hardy they dressed him up in. But Dougie, though slow, is really nice, so it's no wonder that people would like him and that con artists would choose him as the perfect mark.

By and by Dougie got confident and started going out in LA by himself and pretty soon he came back home with LaShay, a six foot two, scantily clad black woman who looked like a ghetto, low class, trashy-assed hooker. She had a pink hair weave, dressed like Lil Kim and carried a teacup yorkie named Sugar Mama around in her pocketbook. Everyone who saw LaShay thought she was a drag queen. I'm not making any judgment just yet. It could just be that she looks like one because of all the bad plastic surgery she's had. She looks like someone shot her face full of motor oil. She probably got her cheek implants, botox, lip injections and breast implants done in the back of an Impala at the flea market. That's how bad she looks. In fact, I think if she had come to me for her cosmetic surgery, that I probably could have done a better job and my only training is watching three episodes of "Doctor 90210." See, I tend to believe that LaShay is not a tranny, because all of the drag queens and transexuals I've known have had better taste than this hot ghetto mess. Still though, a lot of people, strangers even, were coming up to Dougie and asking him if he knew his girlfriend was a dude.

He insisted that LaShay was not transexual. She was always making him buy her tampax. And the reason they didn't have sexual relations was because she was religious. LaShay was not brought up that way. Na Anh. LaShay was a good girl. She ain't just givin' it up like that. She has to be married.

LaShay was, however, totally ok with Dougie taking her out to fancy restaurants every day and taking her shopping at Beverly Center. She was also ok with moving in to my parents' apartment, inviting her friends over, eating all my mother's frozen pizzas and loudly watching "The View" every morning and yelling at the TV. She also let Sugar Mama poop and pee on the floor. Yes my parents allowed this. Eventually my mother got sick of it and kicked her out, but still. They did allow it. I think it was because they felt sorry for Dougie and wanted him to find true love, although it quickly became apparent that LaShay was looking for a meal ticket and a bed. My parents are too kind. This bitch wouldn't have lasted a second with me. I hate "The View."

So within about a week, and several shopping trips, LaShay had Dougie completely whipped and was becoming increasingly more and more demanding. She was also extremely rude, loud and low class and was embarassing to be around in public with her all looking like a crack whore version of RuPaul and wearing cut-out, leopard spandex cat suits.

One night, just before my mother had about had it with LaShay and her antics, my parents were going to a very fancy, elegant steakhouse for a romantic dinner. Dougie begged to come along because LaShay said she wanted to go there and nowhere else would do. She wanted to go too. My parents relented even though everyone in the restaurant stared at them as they walked by, which LaShay loved because everytime she caught someone looking at her, she'd smack her lips and go:

"Mmm Hmm. You want this ass baby, I know it. Oh yeah. I'm looking good."

My mother ordered a caesar salad for her first course.

"Mmm. I want a salad too," LaShay said, "I want the beefsteak tomato salad."

The salads arrived at the table. My mother had her caesar and LaShay got her beefsteak tomato salad. My parents noticed that LaShay had become agitated. She huffed and puffed and sucked her teeth and threw herself all around in her chair, pouting.

"What's wrong LaShay?" my mother asked.

"Look at this shit," LaShay said.

The salad looked fine.

"I am not letting them get away with this," LaShay said.

She yelled for the waiter.

"Is there a problem with the salad?" he asked.

"Umm, excuse me? Do you see this salad?" she said.

Then she huffed and puffed and pointed at the salad with her three inch long, curved gold nails.

"You did order the beefsteak tomato salad, didn't you?" asked the waiter.

"Exactly," said LaShay, "There you go."

"That is the beefsteak tomato salad ma'am."

"You think I'm a idiot or something? You think 'cause I'm black you can get away with this shit? You gave me a plate of tomatoes! I ordered the BEEF STEAK salad and your ass brings me a plate of tomatoes."

"No LaShay, beefsteak is a kind of tomato," my mother tried to explain.

The waiter tried extremely hard not to laugh. If the waiter has a blog, this story is on it. In fact, this story needs to be on Waiter Rant. My heart bleeds for the server who had to put up with this.

By this point LaShay was causing a royal scene in the restaurant and everyone was laughing at her. To make matters worse she believed there was a giant conspiracy to deprive her of beef steak and that my mother was in on it.

"Don't you tell me. A tomato is a tomato, not a beef steak. The menu said BEEF STEAK, ok? Waiter bring me the menu."

He did.

"See," she said, "It say beef steak and that's what I ordered and I want my beef steak or I'm leaving. Motherfuckers trying to rip me off giving me a plate of damned tomatoes."

Finally, Dougie managed to calm her down by ordering her an extra steak, in addition to her entree steak, so that she would shut the hell up and stop torturing the restaurant staff and embarasing my parents with her refusal to believe that she was not being cheated and that beefsteaks were a kind of tomato, an idea which was too difficult and abstract for her to grasp.

Last night my parents told me this story as we had dinner. And then they told me that Dougie had brought LaShay back to Florida with him. Dougie is from here and went out to LA with my parents, so when they returned, he too returned to South Florida. He lives with his mother here and now so does LaShay.

I'm thinking we need to set LaShay up with Brad, because they sound like quite the match and everyone has the same very bad feeling about this situation as they did when my sister introduced us to Brad.

17 comments:

Aleta said...

LMAO. Are these people for real or do you just have an incredible sense of creativity? Thanks for the laughter and I hope that he is no longer dating that woman... man.. eh... whatever..

Jean Phoenix said...

This will not work out well for Dougie - poor guy.

JTN said...

oh.. the blog you need to read is Raging Server. He waits on these types of people all the time http://www.ragingserver.com/

Of course, you could make this a game. Given her limited vocabulary, you could have a total field day... sweetbreads anyone? How about a nice Rocky Mountain Oyster? I'm sure you'd like to try this Ragout...(no, its not from a jar...)
heheheheh...

Rabrab said...

I think that introducing LaShay to Brad is an excellent idea.

Suzanne said...

Your parents are insane, I don't know where they find these people (and then bring them home with them!).

the Bag Lady said...

Don't you know any hitmen? Sheesh.

Kay Bratt said...

Absolutely friggin' hilarious...just when I needed the laugh, too.

Kay

[no..you don't know me...I've been lurkng...]

Chris (Dippy Chick) said...

Poor Dougie! I feel bad for him. He just wants to be loved. I hope he wakes up soon.

Jeez - love really IS blind, isn't it?

Fancy Schmancy said...

I love you, and your family. Where do these people come from?

Paige said...

Poor Dougie.

This is why I live in BFE. Our pink hair trannys or not do not go out in public.

I wish they would, it would be more fun

Miss Kitty said...

Holy shit. LaShay and Brad will LOOOOVE each other. Or they'd better. Before I kick both their asses.

Nothing pisses me off worse than lying freeloaders.

Coolred38 said...

Ive been a lurker for awhile now...and from your posts all I can say is...if I ever come knocking round your familys door...Im sure they will make me feel right at home...lol....complete with all my baggage.

maybe you could orchestrate an incident in which you could find out once and for all whether he is a she or vice versa...say like walk in while he/she is in the bathroom...see whether its standing or sitting...lol. I hate mysteries.

robin in ohio said...

Oh, poor Dougie!! LaShay sounds like trouble with a capital T. (shaking my head)

Yes, "she" and Brad deserve each other. Brad...are you still lurking out there reading this blog and the comments? If so, please contact Wide Lawns' parents and have them introduce you to LaShay!

Ambitious Blonde said...

Oh lord! I'm embarrassed for Dougie and your parents just reading about this exchange. Lashay really knows how to keep things classy, doesn't she?

Hilary said...

Your family is a weird-magnet. I see them as this rolling snowball, gathering more and more layers of unusual people everywhere they go. How wonderful that out of all this strangeness, there's a highly entertaining writing among them. Thanks for that.

TK said...

Holy Horse Shit! This post was literally jaw dropping, my chin was practically on my chest through the last half, I can NOT believe that psycho user has moved in with Dougie's PARENTS! How do people let this shit happen?!!

Reminds me of the "friend" I let come visit, who after a week announced to me that she was flying her 16 year old son out as well to visit, the son who then broke my front door in one night because I told him it was a little sticky and sometimes it needed a shove.... same kid we had to get released from the mall after he shoplifted sunglasses. Then after he got shipped back home, she tried to commit suicide in my tub with MY Valium, and I said THAT'S IT and tried to put her in a taxi to the airport in the middle of the night, and my husband said "You can't do that, it's the middle of the night!" and I said "Watch me!". He prevailed, our lives were never the same, some people have to learn what psycho is the HARD way... ;)

My word verification was "diessly", very close to "die slowly", which is what dealing with this kind of crazy makes one feel like one is doing...

Basement Kitty said...

I don't want to be a word nazi because I love you, but, I have to tell you the accepted word is transgendered. I only know this because my husband is FTM transgendered... Most people would find this strange but my entire life is one bizarre freak show, so I take it in stride. Anyway, you seem like me, always wanting to know the proper words and blah blah blah so yes, it is transgendered. Also, thanks for the impact post, you had me rolling. It drives me nuts too lol.

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