Tom Segura: Mostly Stories Page #4

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like, "Well, bonjour!

I don't even know where I'm at!"

"Can I get me a 'crassant?'"

F*** Paris, Tennessee.

So, we're leaving...

London, Ontario, Canada...

bothers me just to say it.

And we're headed back to Toronto,

and we pass by a strip club named Beef.

Now...

Yeah, your hearing is working just fine.

There's a strip club named Beef! I mean...

can you even wrap your head around

the confidence a young lady has to have

just to audition at Beef?

Just to be like, "I know they're hiring

at Diamonds, but I'm more of a Beef girl."

Like, that is...

It's such an aggressive name,

even for a casual conversation.

To be like, "Oh, you strip?"

"Where do you strip at?"

"Beef."

"Jesus."

"What goes on there?"

"Pretty intense sh*t, actually.

We recommend you start

your night at a different strip club

and graduate to Beef.

You start here, we'll wreck your life."

Like, "All right. God."

F***in' Beef is the name...

Fart is a better name for a strip club.

If somebody was like,

"You wanna go to a strip club?

It's called Fart." I'd be like,

"No, I don't want to go there."

"There's another one called Beef."

"All right, let's check out Fart."

"See where that ends up."

I feel like...

the worst part, honestly,

of traveling in our country

is that there's no surprises.

I swear to you, I travel every week,

and it's really a disappointment.

Every place is exactly

what I thought it was going to be.

You know?

I can prove it to you.

Picture a place you've never been to

in this country. Picture it.

That's exactly how it is.

What are the people like, you wonder?

What do you think they're like?

That's right.

It's... I swear to you!

Go to San Francisco.

They're like, "Ah, we're offended."

And you're like, "Yep."

"I know."

Texas? I don't think the people of Texas

necessarily want

to execute retarded people,

but I think they're like, "You know what?

This is Texas. So... whoo!"

"That's how we do it around here, brother.

A little boot scoot boop!

See you later, dumdum.

All right."

They've done it multiple times!

They keep doing it.

"I'm sowwy."

"Yeah, me too."

Crazy.

The Midwest?

I mean, don't you feel like

we could draw a circle

around the Midwest and be like,

"Do we need this?"

Except for wherever you're from.

That place is f***ing awesome.

The Northeast,

shady f***ing people in shady cities.

That's all they are. Just shady.

Just f***ing all those places.

Jersey, Philly, Balti... they're all...

"How you doing?"

"Not now, thank you very much."

"Can I help you with something?"

"Nope. Never in my life."

The one quality I do love

about Northeastern people, though,

you could be in an argument with them

and be like, "You're a f***ing a**hole."

And they're like, "Thank you."

"My dad's an a**hole, and so am I.

It's kind of a thing."

Then what? You head, uh...

you head on down south.

Where "God don't make no junk."

That's a real expression, by the way:

"God don't make no junk."

They say it a lot.

I lived there for a while.

They say it to people who are

complaining about their own situation.

So essentially, it's a pick-me-up. Right?

Like, some lady might go,

"I ain't purty!"

"And I ain't no good."

"No one's ever gonna love me."

And someone'll go,

"Don't you talk that mess."

"Don't you say that, Sally...

Billy Bob... Sandra. Don't you say that."

"God don't make no junk."

I always want to interrupt and be like,

"I'd like to politely disagree!"

"I think He was nodding off

when He made you."

"While your sunken eyes

and protruding underbite are charming..."

"...that map of white trash is not sending

a lot of lead to the pencil. You're right!

You're gonna die alone,

bah-bah-bah-Nascar-fart-beer."

"You big box of stupid."

Here's great travel advice, okay?

Do not take the red-eye.

If you don't know what that is,

it's amazing

that you made it this far in life.

It's when you fly overnight

from the West Coast

to the Eastern time zone.

Some people love that flight.

And those people are sociopaths.

Because... here's why.

You land and your body's like,

"Well, it's 3:
30 in the morning.

I guess we're going to sleep."

And then the world goes...

"Uh... nope!"

"6:
30, d*ckhead!

Get ready to do stuff."

And then you cry for days.

Last one I ever went on,

I boarded with my wife.

We get on, she looks

at our boarding passes, she goes,

"We're not sitting next to each other."

And I go, "Okay."

I don't know.

She goes,

"You don't wanna switch seats?"

And I go, "Not really."

And she goes, "Why not?"

I said, "'Cause we don't have to."

She goes, "What does that mean?"

I said, "Well, there's only two people

that have to sit next to each other,

and they're up front."

"We can sit anywhere."

She goes, "You're gonna ask

people to move."

And I was like,

"Great. Should be a real treat."

That's always fun, right?

"You all settled in?

Want to stand the f*** up now?" Great.

So...

we're both window seats.

We need an aisle to move.

So I go to the guy sitting next to her,

and this guy is old.

I don't know how old,

but it doesn't look good.

He's... he's drooling...

...he's got rubber where

there used to be bones...

Put it this way:

It's his last flight. All right? So...

After this one, no ms.

So I go, "Excuse me, Gandalf.

Do you think that..."

"...you could move

so I can sit next to my wife?"

And he goes, "Move?"

"Mm-hmm."

He goes, "You move."

"Yep."

"I'll move here,

and then you move there."

And he goes, "You can't see a meniscus...

...I won't be able

to stretch out as much.

I can't stretch.

I gotta sit by the aisle access

and stretch it out there

so it's built up more.

It'll be seven, eight times more

if I sit over there."

And I go, "Are you reading me

a f***ing novel about this?"

"Jesus, just say no!

And I hope you lose your leg."

And then I turned around.

Well, he was a dick.

He was.

Was he old? Yes.

Was he disabled? Severely.

Disabled people have to earn their

cool points just like the rest of us.

I'm so exhausted of the idea

that everybody with a disability

is automatically an angel on earth.

They're not.

They're people, and you should

treat them like people.

But you don't. You patronize

the sh*t out of them. Yeah.

I know you do.

Of course. There's so many uncomfortably

silent guilty faces in here right now.

Yeah. You know when you're at work

and f***ing Sam rolls up?

It's always Sam.

You don't go, "Hey, Sam."

You go, "Hai, Sahm."

And he's like, "Hi."

And you go, "How was your weekend?"

He's like, "It was good."

"Well, that's good!"

And he's like, "You know I'm not

retarded right? I just can't stand up.

You're a f***ing a**hole."

Some of them are cool.

Some of them are d*cks.

I was walking into a building

not two weeks ago.

I open the door. Ten steps back,

I notice a guy's coming up with no arms.

You know what I do? I hold the door.

And when he gets up, he goes,

"I don't need you to do that sh*t."

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