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My Mother, My Pimp.

October 11, 2011

How To Be A Jewish Mother via: Dan Greenberg

A while ago, my mother took me to a show for my birthday. Something we really enjoy doing together. As I sat quietly waiting for the theater to fill up, I got lost in my Playbill. Suddenly, I heard my mother’s voice. She seemed to be deeply engaged in a conversation with the family next to us. I didn’t pay much attention, as small talk with strangers isn’t really my thing. I was too busy learning that the understudy for the lead had been doing summer stock in the Berkshires. Suddenly, over the hum of the crowd, I hear the words my mother is saying. They were becoming more distinct with each passing sentence.
“This is my daughter Darcy. It’s her birthday.”
I didn’t hear what the strangers had said, but I did hear what my mother said next.
“She is single. If you know anyone?”
I could only sit with my mouth agape and my eyes wide, praying for some type of overhead light to come crashing down on my head.
“This is her picture.” She continued, as she held up her IPhone for them to see.
The strangers were nodding. Smiling politely.
“She is beautiful.” One of them said. To be nice.
“She is beautiful. She needs a really nice guy. So if you know anyone.”
I needed to make this nightmare end. That very minute.
“Mom?’ I said, leaning forward in my seat, waving politely to the strangers.
“Yes?”
“Can I speak to you for a second?”
“Yes?” She sat back in her seat.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a harsh whisper.
“I’m showing them your picture. Maybe they know a nice guy?”
“Really?”
“Sorry. They told me they were visiting from St. Louis.”
“So now you’re reaching out to the midwest to find me a man? And why are you giving them so much information? And why are you showing them my picture?? I’m sitting right here!”
“You look beautiful in that picture.”
I could only stare at her blankly. We may have even had a staring contest. I can’t be sure cause I was too busy planning my escape in my mind. Was the stage too far to swing out of there via curtain?
“Please stop showing everyone my picture. And please stop trying to get me dates. Particularly in the midwest. Unless of course they are with women. Cause I am a lesbian now.”
“Darcy. Ugh. No you’re not?” Suddenly concern washed over her face.
I looked down at my Playbill to look for something. Anything.
“If you are a lesbian, I just want to say that you and your girlfriend are always welcome in my home.”
“That’s very after school special of you to come around like that.”
Beat.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a lesbian. That too would involve dating.”
She smiled and kissed me on the head. Relieved I wasn’t a lesbian, and anxious to get back to the midwestern contingent to her right.

Three things in which my mother will always be consistent: She will always show people my picture when I am sitting right there, she will make sure I know that if I do become a lesbian, my girlfriend is always welcome in her home, and she will always look out for me and have my back %100. Love you mom!

More on my mother? See:  Driving With My Mom, Moving and Shaking, My Mom The Stalker, Real Texts From My Mom, Matchmaker Matchmaker Make Me  A Match…That is Alive. &  Sugar and Spice and All Things…Technological

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. October 11, 2011 2:33 pm

    Having a mother that pimps you out? Hmmm…..wonder what Dr. Spock would say about that!

    • October 13, 2011 4:40 pm

      Ha! There are probably many things he would disapprove of! But that makes life more interesting no? 🙂

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