It's a Weekend Dirty Dozen's erotic comedy about what you see in the club isn't actually true. I hope you all enjoy!
"Yo, that's a dude," Victor said, as he pulled out a vinyl record from his crate, ready to cue up his next mix on the turntable.
"Naw," as Danny shook his head. "That's a woman. She's been eyeing me all night and I know she wants me."
Victor returned a look to his friend, like he needed his eyes adjusted. He could only forgive him, because he knew his best friend was a horndog and was willing to screw anything that walks in a skirt, with long hair. But in order to save his friend from a humiliation, he called the cocktail waitress, Mandy, over for a second opinion.
"Hey yo Mandy, come here," he signaled out.
Mandy was one of those hottie-totties that acted like her shit didn't stink at times, but was very honest and affable. She would display her nice side if she liked you, but other than that, she was mean towards those she didn't like. However, there was one thing she was able to spot in an individual, who's fake and who's not, and she was able to see that a mile away.
"What is it?" she asked, entering his booth.
"Come here, I need you to tell my man Danny that this chick in the bright-green mini dress, at the bar, that she's a man.
"Which one?" she asked, just to get confirmation.
Danny pointed out the long, dark-haired chick sitting at the bar, near the club, being served her drink, "That one over there."
Mandy, stepped in the middle his booth and got a very look at her, she was very attractive; dark, long hair, beautiful toned skin, perfect body, and so well-dressed, she was perfectly flawless. She nodded her head and quickly knew no woman, no matter how attractive she was, was ever flawless. To Mandy, this woman must have had a good plastic surgeon. Not only that, whatever she wore matched perfectly, including her shoes.
"That's a man."
"How do you know?" Danny asked.
"Her night purse matches her handbag, her shoes goes too well with her handbag, and after looking at all the other bitches in the club, she stands out way too much."
"That doesn't mean anything," Danny denied.
"Oh yeah, I bet you twenty bucks that her fingernails are painted at the exact color of her dress. If they are, then you better check under her skirt; her dick might be bigger than your's."