Road Confessions

“Ok, I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anyone before,” she said.  “My husband won’t go down on me.”

“What??!!!” I replied.

“He won’t go down on me.  He says he doesn’t like it,” she added.

I paused.  Because life had taught me a lot of things by this point and one of them was – not everyone wants to know the truth all the time.  They want to tell you SOME things, so you’ll know they have a life.  Maybe they want you to think it’s cool or eccentric, maybe they’re looking for comfort.  What they don’t want you to do, is tell them how you really feel, which in this case was APPALLED.

“Well, maybe he just needs to warm to that,” I said.  “Maybe with time, he’ll understand a woman needs that,” I tried, literally fishing for anything, anything to say, except for what I truly thought.

“Yeah, I thought maybe that was it,” she said.  “But, my best friend from college came over and we had some drinks one night and one thing lead to another and I had always wanted to try it with a girl,” she went.

Oh. dear. god.  I thought, but said nothing.

“The alcohol was flowing and I started to kiss her and soon enough my husband joined in and then…and then, he did the strangest thing.  He went down on her.”

Oh, no.  No, no, no.  Is this woman an idiot??!!  Jesus Christ, I thought.  But, I said nothing.  It’s rare someone has me speechless, but this time, this time, was one of those moments.


American truthsayer.


I’m sitting in my apartment tonight.  Wifesy is away and I’m mindlessly watching As Good As It Gets for the hundredth time.  There’s the road trip scene.  Jack Nicholson is being his jackassy self and very gay, Greg Kinear and Helen Hunt are hitting it off.  They pull over to the side of the road and Greg confesses to a quasi-incestual moment he had with his mother under the guise of art.  And it got me thinking.  It got me thinking about road confessions.  I’ve been on the road lots as a comedian and there’s something about it.  There’s something about hurtling through distance in a confined space that makes strangers and almost friends confess things to one another.  I don’t know why, but I know that it regularly happens.  It’s the strangest thing.

I don’t remember what I said to the girl whose husband went down on the other girl, but I KNOW that I tried to soften it.  What I wanted to say was, “This is the beginning of the end.  You’re about to get divorced.  And you should file the papers, immediately.  I’m sorry, but if you’re a woman and you’re with a man (or a woman for that matter) and he doesn’t want to please you then he doesn’t want to be with you.”  I believed that then and I believe that now.  A few years later, those two got a divorce.  Welp, no surprise there.

What I was amazed by was that this woman could tell me that.  We weren’t even that close!  I was amazed that she could tell me something that huge with very little understanding that this was a very bad thing.  She had zero idea that this was a huge crack in her relationship.  She wanted some other girly explanation from me, I think.  She wanted some kind of Cosmo magazine, “some men are like that from me”.  She never got it.  However, I did NOT do what the less therapized version of me would’ve done, either.  The less therapized version of me – maybe only a good 5 years earlier version of myself would’ve said, “What are you feckin’ crazy??!!  He went down on your friend and he has never in your marriage gone down on you??!!  And you have a baby together?  And you think this is okay?  How far does your delusion run?  Jesus, step back, and see what is really happening.”  But, I never said that because she was my opening act at the gig and I just wanted to get through it.  I didn’t want her forever mad at me because I know what happens with some women (some men too), you tell them the truth, and they shoot, stab, and cut up the messenger – never the husband, never the person really to blame, never the person who has done them the real damage.  I’ve never understood it, but experience has shown me that it’s best to shut it in certain situations.  This was one.



I tried to soothe her as best as I could.  I probably laughed it away, even though I knew in that very moment she would be getting a divorce.  I knew it way before she knew it.  Had she been a better friend of mine, it would’ve been a tougher dilemma – my loyalties playing on my need to just get through the gig.  But, she wasn’t.  She was just a business associate really.  Another comic.  Another unsure soul, begging strangers for attention.

We went to the gig and she got up to perform.  The room was run by an old couple.  We were getting paid a couple hundred dollars each and a hotel room to travel to god knows where just outside of Philly.  We performed in the private room of a chain restaurant.  On this particular night, there was a table – one long table – of a good 30 to 40 black people.  There was a second table – where we sat with the old couple/ bookers and my opening act.  Aside from that, there was only one other table in the room.  A round table to my left.  At the table were a white couple.  I didn’t think much of them at first.  They seemed to be a typical, suburban-ish, tattooed, white couple.  The woman was mumbling, but I thought – well, Jesus, she must be drunk and shrugged it off.  She’ll stop at one point, I believed.  The opening act was performing, the eccentric, old couple were in and out of the room, chatting with people and enjoying the buffet, but the white girl at the table – she was getting louder and louder.

The black folk were beyond nice.  They were tolerant to say the least because my opening act just wasn’t strong enough yet.  They were generous and attentive and listening.  And the white girl was getting angry, I heard her mumbling about how my opening act sucked.  Then she started saying stuff about the black people – audible stuff – calling them the n-word.  I mean the n-word!  This is something that being from New York I just really don’t hear that often.  In fact, I’m not sure I had ever heard it uttered out loud in anger up until that point.  But, the white girl, she just  couldn’t believe the black folks liked this dreck.  I mean my opening act was no good, couldn’t these people see it?  No?  Then call ’em the n-word.  It went on and on.  The room was in a total shambles by the time my opener was wrapping up.  The old couple was so old and so clueless that they did nothing.  How the black folk never heard the crazy, racist, white girl, I’ll never know.  They either didn’t hear her or they ignored it.  By the time I got to the stage I was seething.  To add fuel to the fire, the white girl was in a frenzy.  She started to attack me immediately.  I re-directed her anger with laughs and got back to my act, but I was charged, really charged.  I started getting the black table to really laugh.  I mean really laugh.  I wanted them on my side.  The white girl said some more horrible shit, I said something really diffusing like, “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”  The black people applauded.  This only made white girl more angry – she lashed out again.  I slammed her a little harder, but still nothing that would draw blood.  She said something again, I diffused it again.  Finally, after displaying my calm for at least 3 -4 rounds with this b*tch, I unleashed.  I told her – calmly – what I thought she was – a racist, stupid, redneck.  She charged the stage.  I wasn’t expecting it, but oddly as she was only a foot or two in front of me, I became extremely relaxed.  In hindsight, I’m guessing it was adrenaline and in some deep recess of my brain, I was willing to take her out.  I was so disgusted with her behavior or what drinking (and whatever else she was taking made her) that in some deep, primitive, place of my brain, I was hoping she’d charge me.


"Momma's about to get medieval!"


She ran at me and my shoulders relaxed waiting for what was going to happen.  When at the very last moment, her boyfriend grabbed her from behind and carted her out of the room.  As the guy was dragging her out, I let her know that I wished a plague-cocktail of aids/ cancer/ and syphilis to befall upon her car on the way home.  The show got back to semi-normal after that.  As normal as a show like that can get.  I finished my spot and told the black folks that they were going to have to walk me out to my car, in case crazy-shakes was waiting for me in the parking lot.  They laughed and said they would.

I haven’t seen that opening act in many years, but a friend of mine, he tells me that she’s as deluded as the day I took that car ride with her.  It leaves me wondering and amazed about the total bullsh*t we’ll live under, telling ourselves something else to justify it all, and then there’s that unbelievable (really, is this happening?), pure, evil sh*t that lives inside some people like the racist girl.  At the same time, there are complete strangers who willing to walk us out to our cars, just to make sure we get home safe.  People, us humans, we’re damn odd.



Sweet Mother is updated daily.  You can follow this blog by clicking the “follow” button at the top of the page.


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Photo creds:  cutlass, girl-wrestle

46 thoughts on “Road Confessions

  1. That is definitely what we call TMI. Ewww.

    I admire that you have the cajones to do stand up. I imagine you really have to develop a thick skin, especially against people like that.

    1. lol. cajones, indeed, i suppose. doing stand up is more of a compulsion than anything i’m brave enough to do, in reality. i still don’t have a thick skin though, everyone bothers me. lol. thanks for swing by here, carrie. xo, moms

  2. We are definitely odd. You know, when you first started out with this woman’s statement I was almost sure you were going to say something about her vagina…that maybe she lacked in the hygiene area (which would really turn a guy off as well) but if he never even tried with her, then I would have thought what you did..that he just didn’t care enough. It’s too bad that we string each other along like that instead of just being open from the start. I tell you though, if that was my husband and I saw him jump on another girl, he’d be sucking his supper with a straw for months.

    1. i don’t think he ever even tried. it was sorta sad and outrageous all at once. and wendy this statement, ‘he’d be sucking his supper with a straw for months…’ nearly died, nearly died, i laughed so hard. so hard. ahhhhh. lol. i’m so with you. that is a statement that another person would never survive saying to me. lol. as always, love seeing you here – moms

  3. I’ve hung out with a lot of artsy, quirky, oddball people for whom TMI has no meaning. I probably could have gotten into an indepth analysis of the situation with her, trying to be supportive of her while gently lifting the veil of delusion from her eyes.

    When it comes down to is, I’m a misanthrope. There are some people I like, but as a whole, I find humanity is generally like the racist, drunk white girl. I usually have very little interest in helping out humanity as a whole so instead try to focus on the occasional person who is more like the black people at the table, who had the sense to know when to ignore something because it just isn’t worth fighting about sometimes.

    I’m pretty sure those are the people who are ‘better’ than me. They are still trying to make humanity something better than it is.

    1. there is a lot of truth to what you say, urban, and the truth is comedians don’t have much of a filter as a general rule. i was with the black people from jump. they were my kind of people. period. i was even willing to take a punch for them, which is saying something. lol. a younger version of me would’ve gotten all up in it with the ‘he won’t go down on me’ girl, but the older me just gets exhaused, quite honestly. anyway, as always, great commentary. – moms

  4. Few years back..i was in was bad…
    so my first day i ask a nurse that im thirsty..she gets all crazy and angry and says that i cant have water and if i do its at my own risk…and all that…well to be honest i did have a sip when she left..and it wasnt a wise step..i realized in morning…
    anyhow…next day i found out that the nurse has changed and i have a new nurse..Because of change in duties… this new lady is a person i can never ever forget…
    few days later my pain gets worse…so this particular hospital is not able to find out exactly what was wrong with me..they were afraid it was getting worse, so they referred me to another rich classy big hospital….my last night before i was shifted to the other place was bad,…because the pain was at its worst… and they had to give me blood in case i need emergency surgery in the new place…
    there was this rule that while patient was on IV drip, they didn’t turn off the lights in the room incase the patient ends up screwing with the equipments and wiring attach to his/her body.. and i really wanted them to switch of the lights so i can try to sleep as i was in pain.
    this nurse (nicest stranger i have ever met) she sits next to me… massages my back to ease down the pain, while massaging the forearm to help the blood flow smoothly into the veins.. and i dont know when i slept… i dont for how long she was there doing this (it wasn’t necessary.. i mean she could have just left and come in few hours to see if the blood bag is empty or not or have i screwed up the thing on my arm…)… i cant ever forget that night… she was warm , nice and a god sent nurse… in fact everyday she used to tell me stories of her kids to distract me while i was being given injections and my IV drips were changed..
    i think strangers can be defined in two words… pure luck… sometimes you get creepy women who scream at you for no reason.. that has happened too…if i went into that story it will go weirdly long… and sometimes you get people as nice as that night nurse..
    also, i know why that girl shared things with you… if i could i would talk to a stranger and share…because i know a stranger would not talk to people i know…

  5. Humans really are weird. While sometimes hard to deal with, I think being able to take a step back and see it all is a special thing, like a super power or something.

    I guess some people can’t handle it because they are too afraid of what it means.

    Also, I too admire you for having “the cajones” to do stand up. That’s awesome.

  6. You know Le Clown is a big fan of your posts… This one is one of my favourites. Not because you wrote about going down; this clown is not a pervert. But shit strangers can confess to you always dazzles me. Not in a bad way, as it is sometimes a sign of trust and respect. But it is often a level of intimacy so sudden that it has given me at times Le Vertigo.

    My daughter will sometimes spit out shit I don’t want to know about her friends at daycare, like: Little Billy asked me for my number, or Little Martha wants to drop acid… But at 2yrs old, I can’t hold it against her… right? They don’t have “that” filter yet…

    Le Clown

    1. i definitely had ‘le vertigo’ with this one. i suppose i am one of those people with a ‘tell me everything’ sort of face. but, still, that sort of face does NOT always want to know!!! fun to re-tell the story tho… thanks for saying so, clowny. momma appreciates it! me

  7. funny simply funny…”This one time at Band Camp…” I know someone who as well lacks a filtering system for the TMI topics and divulge all the bitness. I hate it, Oh the things I wish I didn’t know. I usually interject with a “Hold that thought real quick let me go a check something for the rest of the feckin day” I also reply to, too personal questions with a polite “None of your cotdamn bitness, but how bout them Yanks?!” really neat post Momma~

    1. oh my god, this was SO a ‘one time at band camp’ situation. and then she thrust the flute in my face! or that’s what it felt like. this comment was so funny, naima…run from that girl…ruuuuuuuunnn, because once you know those things you can’t ‘unknow’ them. lol. xo – mother

    1. seeerrrrioouuuusssly. a huge jerk indeed. unbelievable behavior. unbelievable. so crazy that i never forgot it, in fact. anyway, thanks for stopping by here and commenting, megan. all the best, mother

  8. Absolutely love this post! It Always strikes me at how odd and vastly different, cruel, mean, nice, compassionate, and whatever adjective you can think of people are. Makes ya think! 😀

    1. there’s a full spectrum out there, that’s for sure. even though i’d like to wipe a couple of people off the timeline, so to speak. the a-holes. i have a ‘no-a-hole tolerance’ policy. so far it has served me well! lol. thanks for stopping by here, miss. i always enjoy it! me

  9. Wonderful post and I love how you handled both situations … but, for real, I seriously wanted to jump back in time and kick the everlovin shit out of the husband!

    Take care, momma, hope your having a good day!

    1. can you believe??!! i know, a real toolbox. in some ways i’m like ‘the poor thing’ in regards to the wife and then at other times i’m like, ‘why didn’t you IMMEDIATELY kick that man to the curb…’ PEOPLE ARE CRAY-CRAY. but, there are some good ones…like the peeps on here. enjoy the rest of your evening, gills. xo- momma

  10. That’s so bizarre that A.) she would blindly, naively confess that to you and B.) that the opener’s attempt at comedy brought out such a racist response.

    It sure does take all kinds to make up a world.

    1. i don’t think she brought out a racist response, i think that woman was just racist and i think she was just waiting for some moment, any moment really to unleash that horrendous quality. i think she would’ve done it at the quikimart or the movie theater or in church… she may have been on pcp or something too. i’m saying that only because the reaction was so over the top and so out of left field… i mean i did that show probably close to 8 years ago and i still remember it. that’s how nuts it was. ay yay yay. xo – moms

  11. It’s not so bizarre. She was hoping you would tell her it was nothing to worry about; she was praying that the truth wasn’t the truth. There is something to be said for being sufficiently therapized (damn I thought that was my word)….way to handle all those situations. I go through life thinking people are mostly like the table of black people…. but then a Trayvon Martin tragedy happens and I wonder.

    Also, I think she shared with you because you are Mother. You seem like the sort of person people would share their fears with so you could make it all better.

    Hell of a post!

    1. “she was praying that the truth wasn’t the truth.” – now, ain’t THAT the truth. you’re probably right, i have one of those, ‘tell me anything’ type spirits and honestly, i love a good counsel – 95% of the time, but this woman is a bit of a nutbag and i just didn’t want to go there. it would’ve been too much work if you know what i mean. it also just floored me. floored me. i never forgot it!

      the black people, imho, were my saviors in this story. honestly, there was so much crazy around me during this gig, that i felt like that group of folks were my lifeline – seriously. as for the trayvon martin thing – i can’t even begin. the huge a-hole who shot him needs to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. ay yay yay. anyway, you’re the best, mags, love hearing your thoughts here. always. – moms

      1. As I have said, I have had a lot of therapy and plenty of days when I was wishing the truth wasn’t the truth. But! I’m cool now or as cool as I’m going to be. I so appreciate your support. I have a day job that pays the bills that isn’t my dream come true but I write for them, too. And it gives me the freedom to do my real writing while they think I’m working on engineering nonsense. 🙂

        As for Trayvon, shit I don’t know. Zimmerman needs to be put away, he was looking for something that wasn’t there and then he killed that poor boy who was loaded with Skittles and an Arizona Ice Tea. I have kids and I worry about some crazy ass walking into study hall and taking aim. I suppose that is a post for next week.


    1. how thoughtless of me… let me scamper over to the tags box…oops, my fingers became paralyzed, can’t do it, cann”tttall… aaaahhhhhhh.

  12. I’m amazed at your restraint in both scenarios. I think a perfect solution would be to have had the horrid drunk redneck girl’s boyfriend go down on your opening act.


  13. We’re all guilty of wilful blindness at times Mum, especially when we have a lot to lose. I remember two separate occasions during my defunct marriage when I worked very hard to not know what in fact I did know but I believe /that/ personal failing is nowhere near as bad as the wilful blindness of racism. It’s based on the big fat lie that ‘I, [the racist] am perfect and everyone not like me is sh*t’. Worse, the lie disguises the fear of the other as ‘courage’.

    I don’t know how this pathetic part of human nature can ever be stamped out but I do know that every time we ignore racism in others we just validate it a little bit more.

    Well done for taking a stand back then. And well done for having the courage to show which side of the fence you’re on now. -hugs-

    1. all true, everything you have said is true and spot on. as always. racism is not very hard for me to stand up against. i am lucky only to have encountered it as an adult. nyc is 40% foreign born, so if you’re a racist there, you’re an idiot. plain and simple. new york actually does diversity quite well. i was under the very mistaken assumption that it was like that every where else for a long time. now, i know it’s not. and i have no problem taking a stand against it. as for the girl with the man who didn’t want to visit her undercarriage, i hear you, probably just deep denial. deep, deep, deep denial. with her i run back and forth btwn ‘poor thing’ and ‘why didn’t you just feckin’ leave!!’ well, she did eventually, so clearly, at one point she knew… as always, a pleasure to read your thoughts, ac. a pleasure.

  14. You mean you don’t love it when people just starting about their sex life with you? I love it. As I age my stories become more and more about diapers and target. I need a little excitement. haha.

    1. i totally do, but not when they are nutbags. when they are nutbags, i just can’t. i don’t have the time. i don’t have the energy. and i’d rather be playing ping pong. seriously. 🙂 moms

  15. More than a few times I’ve told a person I’d only just met – a complete stranger – things that I’d never reveal to someone who knew me. It’s somewhat akin to being anonymous on the internet, where you can say anything at all, but it can be more intense in person. You can see by their reaction whether you should shut up or continue. You get instant feedback. Humans need to feel connected to others. When there’s a disconnect with the people in your life, you’ve got to find it somewhere.

    And the way you handled that crazy chick? Yowza.

  16. That’s one hell of a story you got there! People never want the truth but it’s what they need, I’m kind of sorry you didn’t bitch-slap the wife into reality! Too bad it took her two years to realize what a jerk of a husband she had… though I can imagine it must be hard to accept the fact that you married someone like that.

    I’ve been to a few comedy shows here in town, and I have never seen anybody actually get mad at the comedian. Seriously!? You have got to be kidding me! You go to a comedy club to laugh.. not pick a fight!… I bet you that couple didn’t last long either…

  17. I dated a guy on-and-off for 2 years who never went down on me. I gave him oral and frequently begged for him to slip me the tongue, but it never happened. Then I published an article about the hell that is never receiving cunnilingus and my piece was selected as an editor’s favorite for 2011. Happy ending = a new byline and deciding that I’ll never mess around with a guy who doesn’t love giving oral ever again.

  18. Great read sweet Sweet Mother. I absolutely hate people who come out to comedy shows and talk through people’s sets. I…HATE…THEM. But I love when comics put them in their place. Bad dog! Bad! If you don’t like it, just smile politely, or fucking leave. This shits hard enough to do without some asshole making themselves the focal point of the room.

    1. i’m so with you. if you don’t like the programming, feel free to change the channel, but what you can not feckin’ do is interrupt what i have worked very hard to accomplish. that is not going to happen. take your drama to your therapist. seriously. well said, bill, well said.

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