He came around the door so we could see his complete outfit. He had on dark sunglasses that took up half of his face and a tan cowboy hat that barely fit his head. He was wearing a huge multicolored sweater covered in grease stains that my mother had undoubtedly knit for him, over a red golf shirt whose collar was exposed. Completing his look were cargo pants held up by suspenders and Velcro high-top sneakers.
"Look at him, look at him. . ." Shoniqua repeated several times over. "What up Melvin?!" she screamed and ran in his direction.
"How's my black magic?" he asked her as he went in for a kiss on the lips and she turned her face in order for it to land on her cheek.
"Look at you!" she said. "This is a hot car."
"You like it?" he asked.
"Like it? It matches your sweater," she said as she hopped into the front seat. I went around my father's side, endured his kiss on the lips, climbed in the back, and wiped my mouth.
"You wouldn't believe it, but this car has a hundred and fifty thousand miles on it," my father told us.
"It looks brand new," I said.
"What's up with the fender, Melvin? What happened to that?"
"Oh, who cares? That's aesthetics. You don't need a fender for a car to work. I've had this car in the paper for three days and have already had ten calls. It's gonna go quick."
Shoniqua turned her head to make eye contact but I focused on the traffic.
"So how was the trip?" he asked. "Did you keep Chelsea out of trouble?"
"Yeah, you know me, I try and keep her ass on the straight and narrow," she told him.
"She's gotta be very careful, my daughter. Men love her. And she loves men. She's very attractive, just like her daddy."
I pressed my face up against the window in order to focus hard on something else.
"Yeah, she sure is, just like her daddy,'" Shoniqua said. She poked her finger behind his seat and into my leg. She does this all the time, and on occasion I've bruised from it.
"You know, when I was younger--not so much anymore--women were very drawn to me," he said. "I've lived in several parts of the world--Italy, Spain, Greece, Germany--and I was quite a ladies' man back in the day."
"Back in the day?" Shoniqua asked.
"Yeah, back in the day . . . quiet tip, I know what all the young people are saying these days, I get MTV, I watch The Real World."
"Really?" she asked.
"Oh yeah," he said, just as his cell phone went off playing Usher's "Confessions" as its ring.
"Okay," Shoniqua said and threw her purse at my head. "This motherfucker is crazy," she hissed through clenched teeth.
Melvin was on the phone with a prospective buyer. ". . . mint condition, purrs like a baby, AM/FM stereo, manual windows, spoiler, all the bells and whistles . . . $1275 is what I'm asking. No negotiating!"
"He wasn't serious about buying a car, people don't know what they want," he said as he hung up on the person. "So anyway, Chelsea's mother ordered some Chinese for you girls." He turned to Shoniqua as he drove over a curb. "Unless you want us to pick up some chicken on the way back."
"I'm good with Chinese," she said as she tightened her grip on my kneecap. I didn't know how much more of this I could take and Shoniqua now had her window open with her head sticking out of it.
"You girls want some AC?" my father asked. "The AC's powerful, just put in some new coolant." He went on. "Anyway, like you were saying, I had my heyday too once, women were just drawn to me . . . still are in a way. Sometimes I'll go to the market and three or four different women will ask me where to find anything from pickles to peaches. I feel sorry for the ladies, probably widows ... they see a man like me, don't know what to do with themselves. Chelsea's the same way, can't keep her away from the men or the men away from her."
Shoniqua blew her nose and somehow managed to comport herself. "I think Chelsea's going to be taking a break from men for a while," she said. "I'm gonna try and get her ass a husband."
"Really?" my father asked.
"That's right. She's twenty-eight now, she needs to start focusing on being an adult."
"Well, I'm glad she's got someone like you looking out for her. God knows she's never listened to me or her mother."
"You got that right, Melvin. I'll straighten her ass out. She could write a book about all the men she's been involved with."
"That's not a bad idea, Shoniqua, that could be catchy."
"You hear that, Chelsea." She turned and looked at me. "You should write a book."
"What a dumb idea," I said.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Michael Broussard, Colin Dickerman, Stephen Morrison, Marisa Pagano, Mark Schulman, Susan Haber, Matt Johnson. Chet, Roy, Glen, Simone, Shana, Olga, Wideload, Mikey, Black Magic, and all my nuggets. Aunt Gaby and Uncle Terry Burke for all my vodka. Panio Gianopoulos, thank you very much for all of your work, very nicely done. Except for the day you went to the "chiropractor."
A NOTE ON THE AUTHOR
Chelsea Handler was born in Livingston, New Jersey, and has toured the country doing stand-up. Now settled in Los Angeles, she can be seen at the Comedy Store and the Laugh Factory, and as one of the stars on Oxygen's Girls Behaving Badly. Chelsea has guest-starred on programs such as Spy TV, My Wife and Kids, The Bernie Mac Show, and The Practice, Reno 911 and her stand-up has been televised on VHl's Love Lounge, Comedy Central's Premium Blend, HBO's broadcast of the Aspen Comedy Festival, and The Tonight Show with Jay Leno.
A NOTE ON THE TYPE
The text of this book is set in Linotype Sabon, named after the type founder Jacques Sabon. It was designed by Jan Tschichold and jointly developed by Linotype, Monotype, and Stempel, in response to a need for a typeface to be available in identical form for mechanical hot metal composition and hand composition using foundry type.
Tschichold based his design for Sabon roman on a font engraved by Garamond, and Sabon italic on a font by Granjon. It was first used in 1966 and has proved an enduring modern classic.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Look Who's Having Sex with Mommy
The Beginning of the End
Dumb and Dumber
Guess Who's Leaving Through the Window?
My Little Nugget
Desperado
Skid Mark
Thunder
Shrinky Dink
Don't Believe a Word I Say
The Cookie Monster
Doctor, Doctor
Oh, Shut Up Already!
A Wedding Story
Overboard
Out of the Closet
Rerun
False Alarm
Acknowledgments
Chelsea Handler, My Horizontal Life: A Collection of One-Night Stands
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