I started laughing. I sucked, and I still got $500 though. I might have been embarrassed in front of four thousand people, but I can pay my light bill, get groceries, gas money. I’m good.
This is how I know I REALLY sucked: there was an after-party, and the student that was in charge of activities, when we first got there before the show, he was like:
Student Host: “Yeah, you gotta come to the after-party. It’s gonna be so much fun. Tiffany, you definitely gotta be there. Everybody’s gonna be so excited to see you.”
And then, after the show, that dude came and talked to Tony Rock:
Student Host: “Yeah, so the party’s gonna be hype. We’re gonna pick you up from your hotel in about one hour. It’s gonna be great. We got bitches. We got booze. You gonna love it.”
And then he looked at me, rolled his eyes, and walked the fuck out of there.
Tony Rock: “Ooo, nigga.”
Tiffany: “What?”
Tony Rock: “Yep, your ass really was bad. You’re not invited to the party, Tiff.”
Tiffany: “He didn’t say I couldn’t come to the party.”
Tony Rock: “That look said you can’t go to the party.”
Tiffany: “Well, I don’t want to go to the stupid-ass college party anyway. I’m an adult.”
How about that shit—a twenty-year-old college dude didn’t want me at his party!
And then, this little fat girl brought the money in. She handed everyone their envelopes, and she looked like she did not want to give me my envelope. My little $500. She did not want to give it to me. I know I did bad that night, but I got my money, though.
The Politics of Comedy
At this point, I’m pretty well established in comedy and know most of the people and players. But man, it was not like this at the beginning. I’ve got so many stories about what it was like coming up as a black woman in comedy in LA. Where do I start?
Lemme start with this one comedian. We’ll call him “Fats.” I was volunteering at the youth center, and I ran into him there. He mentioned to me that he surfs.
Tiffany: “You surf? You don’t surf.”
In case you don’t know, Fats is fat as hell. Three hundred pounds, at least.
Fats: “Yes I do, I surf.”
Tiffany: “Wow. I bet you be looking like a sea lion out there in that wet suit and everything.”
Fats: “What’chu talkin’ ’bout? I got my own line of wet suits and my own line of surfboards.”
Tiffany: “Is they plus-sized? That would make sense.”
Fats: “NO! THEY AIN’T NO DAMN PLUS-SIZED!”
Tiffany: “Wow. That’s pretty amazing. You know, I surf too. I take kids surfing every summer.”
Fats: “Oh, maybe I’ll donate some surfboards. Here’s my number. Give me a call sometime.”
So I gave him a call, but every time I called him about the surfboards and stuff, he don’t want to talk about that:
Fats: “So you think we can go out to dinner? What do you like to do for fun?”
Tiffany: “You trying to date me or give me the surfboards? I want the surfboards, I don’t want to date you.”
Fats: “Yo, if you ain’t trying to go out with me, I ain’t trying to give out no surfboards.”
I may have my issues, but I ain’t hooking up with some fat ass for free surfboards. Hell no.
Then I ran into him at the comedy club, and he saw me get onstage and demolish it. Everything was different after that. Now he treats me like I’m one of the homies. Like I’m a fellow colleague.
I love that, and now he’s a good friend of mine. He ain’t trying to take me out to dinner or nothing like that. He respects me as a comedian.
Which before, he probably just thought I was one of them chicks saying I do comedy, trying to get pregnant by somebody rich. ’Cause some girls do that out here.
I had something worse happen with another comic I’ve decided not to name. I’ll call him Rumpelstiltskin. I knew him, because some of my friends opened for him when he went on the road.
Tiffany: “Hey Rumpelstiltskin, I would love to open up for you, you should let me open up for you.”
Rumpelstiltskin: “I can’t take you on the road.”
Tiffany: “Why?”
Rumpelstiltskin: “Unless you opening up those legs, you can’t go nowhere.”
At first, I thought it was just a joke, right? So the next time I asked him, he said the same thing. I was like, This motherfucker serious?
Tiffany: “So lemme get this straight. Whoever’s on the road with you, open up they legs for you, is what you telling me?”
Rumpelstiltskin: “I ain’t no motherfucking faggot. I’m not saying that, I’m just saying that you can’t go nowhere, you gonna ruin my marriage. Your type, you too cute and shit, you gonna have to give up some pussy.”
Obviously, that was a no go.
Then, after I got on a TV show and a movie, now his manager wants to call me asking if I’ll open up for him. And he wanted to pay me $500 for fifteen minutes. Fuck THAT. Rumpelstiltskin was so shocked that I turned down that offer, he called me up himself.
Tiffany: “A minimum, MINIMUM of $2500 for me to open.”
Rumpelstiltskin: “Nigga, what is wrong with you? Don’t nobody pay that much money for some goddam comedy. Not no female.”
Tiffany: “Uh, yes they do. Yes they do. That’s what I get paid on a regular basis.”
Rumpelstiltskin: “Well, I guess you gonna be headlining this for yourself, you can just go on out there and headline for yourself.”
Tiffany: “Will do. You bet.”
And then I started headlining some shows and stuff, and I did pretty good. I guess he heard about how good I did, so he called me:
Rumpelstiltskin: “Well, I just want to apologize. Nigga, you out here getting it. You really doing things. I want to apologize. I was wrong the way I treated you.”
I thought that was cool of him, to admit he was wrong. Good for him.
But I had to earn that respect.
There was this other guy that pissed me off for a long time. Let’s call him “Cry Baby.” He’s a comedian you have heard of. When I was starting off, like twenty-two years old, I met him at an open mic. He said I had promise, but I needed to hang out with more comedians to get funnier. I was like, Cool, this guy’s trying to help me.
So he invited me to a taping at one of his shows for BET. Well, that’s what he told me it was. I’m thinking he is on the TV show. I get there, and it’s not his show at all. He was just doing the audience warm-up! After the show, he was all excited.
Cry Baby: “So what did you think?”
Tiffany: “I thought it was pretty interesting, it’s cool.”
Cry Baby: “You see how I’m the man up there?”
Tiffany: “You not the man, you the audience warm-up. You warm up the audience.”
Cry Baby: “Why you talking to me like that, bitch?”
Tiffany: “Why you talking to me like that?”
Cry Baby: “You disrespecting me?”
Tiffany: “You’re disrespecting me, what do you want from me?”
Cry Baby: “Girl, you know what I want from you.”
Tiffany: “I do know what you want, and guess what? You not my type. Your titties are bigger than mine, I’m not interested, it ain’t never going nowhere. So you just need to chill. We comedians, and that’s that.”
Cry Baby: “Man, fuck you, stupid bitch.”