I Used to Be a Man Whore

True love can make you do anything...even change some of your beloved bad habits.

By Chuck Nice

In my last entry I talked about how the title character in the movie You Don't Mess With the Zohan and I had two life similarities. The first was that Zohan left his job and his home to move to New York City and pursue a career as a hair stylist. I did the same to chase my dream of being a professional comic. The second was that Zohan, an Israeli Mossad (secret service) agent, fell in love with Dalia, the Palestinian owner of the salon where he works. I don't think I have to tell you that Israeli-Palestinian love affairs may pose some rigorous challenges; I would compare it to trying to find a Chinese-to-English dictionary in the mountains of Guadalajara. More interestingly, Zohan falls deeply in love with Dalia despite his cavalier attitude toward sex and women. You see, he's a man whore, and even though he's a lousy stylist, he's immensely popular because he sleeps with his clients and they're all over 60. He gives each one of his clients the exact same hairstyle, but then finishes his service with a good old fashioned rogering; maybe that's why I see so many old ladies with blue hair...cut in the same style.

You might think it's a stretch to equate these circumstances with my life, but you would be mistaken. I'm not proud of it, but my life was somewhat similar to Zohan's--right before I met my wife. I wasn't working in a salon where I whored myself out to elderly women, but I was a raging man whore. Most women think that when they first meet a guy he's only interested in one thing...their mind. That's simply not true! I once went on a date with a girl who told me she didn't feel as though I was attracted to her for her mind, to which I responded "Of course I am, because I want to boff your brains out."

My wife and I were friends, so she was aware of my activities; but whereas I fell in love with her at first sight, she swore she would never date a disgusting man such as me. So how did we end up together? Just like Zohan, I realized that it's the love of a friend and not casual sex that satisfies the soul, and it only took me a couple of years to convince my wife that I was serious about my newly found convictions. 

Once my wife and I started dating, I immediately wanted to marry her and that meant going to her parents and asking for her hand. My wife has traditional Puerto Rican parents, which means they wanted their daughter to marry someone who was Puerto Rican. Needless to say, no lo soy (I am not). When people feel that way, I don't think it's really a matter of prejudice more than it is one of familiarity. It's easier to accept your child marrying someone who is culturally similar, although it's not necessarily better. And yes, sometimes people are just plain Archie Bunker racists, but I didn't think that was the case with my now in-laws. They could see that I loved their daughter and they gave me their blessing, even though I know they were just waiting for me to screw up. I could almost hear the conversation in my head: "We told you not to marry that black guy. You should have known better--haven't you ever heard a rap song?" Eleven years and two grandchildren later, they no longer look at me as the suspicious black dude but as their son, and I no longer feel like I ruined their Puerto-Rican-son-in-law fantasies (that's because I can salsa my ass off).

I now have a daughter and I truly don't care who she brings home, because I have resolved to hate him regardless of his ethnicity.