The hostess that works days at my hotel’s restaurant is an absolute hoot. She has the filthiest mouth of anyone I have ever met, which says something, she encourages us to call her Big Mama, and she busted out in one of Ice Cube’s songs when she delivered room service to him a few months ago. She is a woman to be admired, to say the least. We visit daily, but when she comes bouncing into the office with that mischievous smirk on her face, I know she’s got something good to tell me. This happened last week, and boy did she ever have a doozie.

The way the story went, I thought for sure it was a joke. On the contrary, the whole thing is true.

The subject of the story is a guy who is a relatively high-level attorney, apparently bringing in about a half-million dollars a year. He is fifty years old and very much likes his women younger, and I assume he doesn’t have a problem getting his filthy old man hands on them with that kind of income. He frequents the restaurant and the staff, particularly the hostess, have gotten to know him well.

As the story goes, the guy is in Target and he spots a knockout. She is an absolutely gorgeous young woman and, being the pervert he is, he takes to following her. Eventually he catches her eye, at which time she smiles and motions for him to go over to her. The guy is thinking he has hit jackpot, and he gladly approaches her.

“Do I know you?’ he asks the beauty.
“Well, yeah,” she replied. “I have your kid.”

The wheels start spinning in the guy’s head and he is trying to place her face. He was married to a 26-year-old, but he cheated on her frequently and they had since divorced. Really, there were a slew of women who could have his children. After a several seconds of trying to place her, his face broke into a sly smile.

“I remember you now,” he told her. “You were that stripper I had on all fours on the pool table. I was spanking you with that celery stick.”

The woman looks blankly at him for a moment, then said, “No. Your son is in my class.”

True story.