Holy Chalice!

Photo by the author

I don’t normally hang out with celebrities after the show (their choice, not mine), but it happens once in a while. Recently, my childhood friend Tommy was in town with his father, who is also named Tommy and looks exactly like his son. There was a knock at the door. Someone said our musical guest that night, the rapper Lil Jon, wanted to bring me a gift. He is black, so naturally I welcomed him with open arms.

Lil Jon gallantly walked in wearing what I think may have been a mink pirate costume. Here was one of hip-hop’s leading Lils, with a mouth full of gold teeth and an attractive, nearly nude girl of undetermined ethnicity on each arm. He gave me a “Here I am” kind of look.

I immediately began to worry that this was my “gift”—that I was being presented with a young lady of my own, with whom, because of my eagerness to show I am not racist, I would have had no choice but to have unprotected sex. I knew that I would do this just to please Lil Jon—even if it meant fucking in front of 63-year-old Tommy Sr.—and I also knew that that this woman (or, possibly, these women) would almost certainly become pregnant, possibly with twins.

Jon (as I now call him) handed me a big black velvet bag. Inside was a collection of porn DVDs. I thanked him for these and politely noted that the women on the packaging were indeed the same women in the room. I did this by pointing at them and saying, “Oh, hey—that’s you guys! Wow! That’s really great!” And then Jon gave me the real gift: The best blow job I ever had in my life. Just kidding. It was my very own chalice. A gold (plastic, painted gold) chalice—encrusted with diamonds (fake plastic diamonds) that spelled out my name: “JIMMY.”

I’ve never had my own chalice before. I was delighted both by the gift and by the (albeit slight) possibility that Lil Jon himself sat at home gluing little plastic letters onto this thing to spell my name.

I thanked him for the chalice and didn’t even have to pretend to be excited. I was.

And then Lil Jon commanded the women to get naked and plop down on my friend Tommy’s dad’s lap. I know this sounds like a great thing, but we were all really embarrassed and anxious because we are old white people and that kind of stuff makes us uncomfortable.

Anyway, all I know is I own a fucking chalice. Do you own a fucking chalice? No, you do not.