Page 107 of Nathan
“I’m like, yo, just show me where to sign the contract. You can send all those other actors home, I’m the real deal!”
Tyrell paced from one side of the stage to the other, telling the story with his body as well as his words.
“And then the fuckers told me I wasn’t the right fit. WHAT?!!!”
Boos filled the room.
“That’s right! I’m a genuine New York gangsta, and they say I’m not right for the role. I was so mad that I fucking stole on my way out of the theater… just to prove a point, ya know?” He spoke with a New York accent and fished a city map out of his back pocket. “They sell these maps for three dollars at the theater, okay? I see this woman holding a bunch of them and I go, hey lady, I think that man is waving at ya and when she looked away, I snatched one of them, boom, just like that! I was so smooth she didn’t even see me steal it. That’s how I roll you people. I’m the real fucking deal; a New York fuckinggangsta!” Tyrell had the room in the palm of his hands with all of us laughing out loud.
Nathan squeezed my thigh and grinned at me as if to say, “See, I told you it’d be fun.”
After taking a sip of water, Tyrell spoke in a more serious tone. “Is it cool if we do a small survey in the audience? Okay, good. Raise your hand if you’re tired of hearing about Storm Johnson and Serena Star’s love triangle with that Irish dude.”
I felt my pulse spike as everyone cheered and raised their hands. Nathan joined them with another grin in my direction.
Thank God, the stage was too far away for Tyrell to ever spot us in the back, and everyone had their faces turned to him
“Seriously, I feel like I’m back when my sister forced me to play Barbie with her when we were kids. She would play house with Barbie and Ken, and then I’d bring my cool action man and beat up Ken and hump Barbie.” People laughed at Tyrell’s exaggerated gestures of holding two imaginary dolls in his hand and first beating one and then humping the other.
“My sister would get so fucking mad at me, but I swear Barbie was like ‘Yeah, finally a real man!’ The comedian’s high-pitched Barbie voice and his suggestive body movements had people in stitches.
“No, but seriously, man, at first everyone was like… how could Serena dump Storm Johnson for this nobody? And ya know, having been called a nobody myself once or ten times, I had to check the new competition.” Tyrell walked across the stage with his head high, and his eyebrow arched, leaving time for people to laugh before he continued.
“But here’s the thing, people… this Irish dude that Serena is banging… he earned three medals of honor from the Irish army, he ran like fucking twelve Iron Men or some weird shit and he looks like a younger version of Will Smith. What. The. Actual. Fuck?” Tyrell scrunched up his face in the comical way. “If that’s the new standard for nobodys then I’m fucked!!”
People roared out laughter, and it made him step to the edge of the stage and point to four men in the front. “You think that’s funny, huh? You all realize that you’re fucked too, right? Who can keep up with that shit and by the way… Serena’s newMr. Nobodyisn’t poor like the rest of us either. He’s from one of the wealthiest families in the world,and…”He held up a palm waiting for the room to quiet down. “Someone out back just told me Serena’s Irish dude stood up for five women who were being raped by some undercover South-American gangsta.” In a theatrical gesture, he threw his hand up and rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell is that dude? Fucking Captain America with an Irish passport? No wonder Serena wants that guy to bang her over Storm. Hell, I want him to bang me, and I’m not a homosexual.”
People were whistling, and Nathan crossed his arms with an amused smile on his face. With pride in my chest, I moved closer, and it made Nathan lift his arm around my shoulder and lean his head against mine.
“I don’t know about you people, but that’s the kind of nobody I aspire to be. That Irish dude went head to head with a man who bullied women, and he didn’t just give the creep a lecture on manners… nooo, apparently that’s not our Irish Mr. Nobody’s style. He fucking put the man in the hospital broken backward andkaput!!” Tyrell imitated karate moves on stage that made his dreadlocks jump up and down, and his gold tooth shine in the stage light.
“He went to jail for it,” someone called not far from us.
“He went to jail for it?” Tyrell stopped before he threw his hands up again. “And? I don’t have no problem with that! Serena doesn’t seem to have a problem with it either, now does she? She’s like my sister’s Barbie digging the bad boy action man… I’m telling ya all… if that Irish dude had come with me to the audition yesterday, he would have walked in to that fine theater with his Irish swagger and Irish accent, and I swear the people there would have hired him on the spot to be a New York gangsta,that’s how fucking cool he is!Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being an awesome audience. My name is Tyrell Jackson. Goodnight!”
The audience rose to their feet and gave Tyrell a standing ovation. We stood up with them.
Turning to Nathan, I rose on my toes to hug him. “Let’s sneak out while they’re still applauding.”
Nathan was smiling and clapping. “Couldn’t we go and say hi? I’d like to compliment him on his performance.”
“He sounded a bit infatuated, I’m not sure I want to share you,” I joked.
Nathan and I exchanged a laugh before he took my hand and walked to the back of the room where there was a curtain. He talked to a broad-shouldered man, but I couldn’t hear the words exchanged between them.
“Come on,” Nathan guided me before him, and we moved into a backstage area that had seen better days. On the walls hung posters from old events with autographs from performers that I didn’t know. A few places I spotted holes in the walls as if some frustrated comedian had been booed off stage and taken his anger out on the wall. An old worn-out leather couch and three plastic chairs served as seating with a scratched-up black table in the middle.
“Hey.” The two comedians from earlier were standing with a beer in their hands and looked over, but before Nathan and I got a chance to introduce ourselves, Tyrell came bursting in behind us.
“Oh, excuse me,” he said and pushed past us without a second glance. We watched him give funny handshakes to the others, who congratulated him.
“Yo, do you need an autograph or something?” the female comedian who had started the show asked us with a smile.
Nathan pulled down his hoodie and stepped forward. “I wanted to compliment you all for your show, we had a good laugh out there, and we particularly liked the last part about the Irish Mr. Nobody.”
Tyrell’s dreadlocks swung as he turned. “Thanks, man. That’s great. Are you visiting from England?”
I found it amusing that Tyrell didn’t recognize Nathan, whom he’d just talked about in his show.
