- She takes the fucking
dish and breaks it and says, "Seven days,"
[speaking Spanish] On the way home, I'm like,
"That bitch got a big spread to cover." [laughs] Holy shit! <i> [dark electronic music]</i> ♪ [multiple blows land] ♪ [cheers and applause] - Welcome to
"This is Not Happening." I'm your host, Ari Shaffir. And today, all the
stories are about karma. [cheers and applause] He is one of the best
comedians in the world. One of the best
storytellers in the world. You know him from his podcast, "The Church of
What's Happening Now." One of my best friends in the
world, Mr. Joey Coco Diaz. [cheers and applause] ♪ - I'm Catholic, you know? It's not the fucking
most popular thing to be anymore,
you know? So I was always ashamed of
my Catholicism and shit. And then, I'm Cuban. When you're Cuban, you have a
little Santeria in you and shit. You have, like, an aunt
that cuts chickens and shit on the
weekends and... and puts spells on them. You don't tell nobody
about it, so... I never told nobody about it,
then I watched that fucking documentary
on Scientology, right? And I'm like, here's a
bunch of rich, white, intelligent people waiting for a
fucking Martian, you know? At least Santeria's
from Africa. I mean, seriously. When I saw the fucking
Scientology thing, I'm like, "What the fuck?" They're nice,
intelligent white people waiting for a fucking Martian wearing a Navy suit,
saluting each other and shit. What the fuck is
wrong with you? You got everything going for
you, you dumb motherfuckers. And these people are around us,
they're all around us. "Hi, I'm a Scientologist." Get the fuck away from me. Waiting for a
fucking Martian. And that's right,
I fucking said it. I don't give a fuck. I got one foot in the grave,
one on a banana peel. What they gonna do?
What they gonna do? I'm not gonna be in
a Travolta movie? Fuck him.
I don't give a fuck. Fuck them Scien--
and there's, like, three of youse here. Suck my dick, too. I don't give a fuck about
you dumb motherfuckers. Living in a
fucking rocket ship. Rich white people. They got one black guy
in the fucking thing. And if you're Jewish
and you converted to fucking Scientology, I hope Moses
fucks you in hell. You dumb motherfuckers. You're the strongest race,
fucking killed killed Jesus, and now they're hanging
out up there, fucking-- you know, with these
idiots up there. You fucking momos.
Have some soul. Fucking jerk-offs. I get emotional about
Scientologists. I'm sorry. Now, if you're a Sciento--
I got a story for you that'll make you fucking
convert to Santeria by the end of the fucking night,
all right? When I was a kid, my mother
had a bar near the city. I was a little kid,
and I'd see cops come in to take their weekly bribes. It was a patrol guy--
a beat guy in a suit that would
always come in. Chino, nice guy. I would always talk to him, always get a drink
and be very polite. My mother would just slip
him an envelop on the bar. Then there was a detective that
would come in once a week. He'd have a drink,
bust my mother's balls about Cuban food, you know. But they--
nice guys, you know? And I asked my mom one day, "Well, what do you pay these
fucking humps for?" And she said, "Because when they
break my window, we have a stabbing here, they
come here first and they cover it up." That's how--it's the
cost of doing business, so I, you know--
I didn't know-- They weren't dirty cops. These guys were family guys.
They were great guys. This went on--when I was
about 12, I went into the bar one afternoon after school
and there was this fucking long-haired, dirty
looking motherfucker, you know,
yelling at my mother. And he was an undercover
cop and he was a Cuban guy. And I cold hear him talking
to my mom in Spanish with another Cuban guy, like,
"We want fucking money every week," you know, "We'll
come back in the week. "We better get
our fucking money. We're gonna put all you
fucking Cubans in jail." And about a week later,
I was there again and this douche bag comes in
again, he's talking to my mom. But my mom, the whole time,
is smiling. Let me tell you
motherfuckers something. Pre-revolution Cuba,
before 1959-- those motherfuckers
are tough. Tough! Man, Batista made Fidel
look like a daycare center. Batista didn't
fuck around. Those Cubans are fucking tough.
My mother was tough. And my mother would go off
on you, but this day, she was just smiling. [soft laughter] But I could tell
it bothered my mom. These Cubans in Union City,
they have-- that was the second-biggest
Cuban community, so we had a bunch of bars. We had a [speaking Spanish]. We had Club 38. This is--listen to this,
this is straight up. Club 38,
his name was Willy Vandi. This guy was the grandson to the
guy in "Godfather II" that they took the senator
to see in Cuba. They had the chick
tied up and the guy had a big dick, remember? With a mask and a top hat? This was his grandson and
he had a big dick, too. I swear to God.
I was, like, 12. I went over there with my dad
one night, I saw his dick, I got all dizzy and shit.
It was fucking huge. He had this immigrant chick
tied up, and he would just smack her with
the dick and shit. A little black Cuban
dude with a top hat, fucking playing the conga. It was fucking
tremendous, right? I'm like, "Holy shit!" That guy's dick was fucking
big and he was white. It was to the fucking floor,
this guy. It looked like a
fucking tail. This was amazing. [laughs] So. These fucking Cubans--one day,
I get to my mother's bar and all these Cubans
are in there talking. Like, this fucking
Cuban guy got to go. This guy's got to go, right? And I'm making believe like
I don't hear shit, you know. These Cubans were
selling a little bit of drugs, they were booking. So this guy wanted
their action, you know. They already paid a vig and
these guys wanted their action. So one night, my mom-- There was this Puerto Rican
family on 26th Street that I used to
shoot hoops with. Their mom was a little straight-laced
Puerto Rican chick. Didn't drink, did do--
didn't even curse. But once a month,
she passed this fucking spirit. Like, a dead African fucking
maid or something, right? Oh, it was tremendous. It was like the "Walking Dead,"
and she'd fucking drink a bottle of 151 and spit
it out and blow it on candles and shit and
fires and shit. When you're a kid,
that shit's tremendous. You're giggling and shit. "This bitch ain't
dead, right?" So... So this chick's in her fucking
trance, and I'm giggling with her kids, and she looks at
my mom and she comes over to my mom and she goes,
"What's going on with you? Somebody's giving
you a hard time." And she turns around,
she gets a white dish, and she gets a fucking candle,
and she goes like this under the fucking dish. Then she throws the candle,
that blows up like a fucking magic trick and shit. She turns the dish around... It was like an image,
like the ones that are on tortilla, you know? When fucking Jesus
shows up in Mexico. But it was on a plate,
and it was like an image. And she goes, "Is this the guy
that's bothering you?" Out of nowhere.
Out of nowhere! I shit my fucking pants.
I'm like... She takes the fucking
dish and breaks it. And says, "Seven days."
[speaking Spanish] On the way home, I'm like,
"That bitch got a big spread to cover." [laughs] Holy shit! I don't say nothing.
I don't say nothing. I wasn't allowed to
talk about that shit with my little fucking
Italian friends or nothing. So about a week later,
I go to grammar school. I get in there and--I was going
to school in North Bergen, which is a complete
different jurisdiction. And I see the teachers
talking about-- I hear them talking
about bullets. But, you know,
somebody's body language? You knew something happened. I go to class, I get out of
class, I get on my bicycle, I ride up to my mom's bar. The fucking Cubans are
in there doing blasts. These are when Cubans did real
coke out of aluminum foil. Fuck the grinder. They would just put fucking
rocks in their nose and shit. I'd have to tell my mom,
"Ma, wipe your nose!" They're all up there,
fucking celebrating, clinking glass--
I go, "What happened?" They go, "That fucking cop
got killed last night." It was this taxicab company.
They sold coke. Rapido Taxi.
They were Cubans. <i> Rápido</i>means "quick,"
you know what I'm saying? And they never had
no customers, they just flew around
the fucking town. So he went down there to make a
collection, like, midnight, and they got him
and his partner. He shot the fuck out of
that motherfucker. Shot him! And the partner's still alive.
He got stuck in the car. He says he couldn't get out,
but they got him with buckshot. So the fucking guy, they chopped
him in half with the bullets. I fucking got on my bicycle,
I went up-- this was before "CSI." There was a brick
wall just fucking blown apart with bullets. The shell casings
were everywhere. They fucked this
motherfucker up. And I was like,
"I got to pay attention to that "motherfucking
lady more often. 'Cause that bitch got
magic powers, jack." I forget about this story,
I move on with my life. A thousand things happen. I go to jail,
I come out. I got to apply for a fucking job
with a Honda dealership in Boulder, Colorado. They go, "A couple of people
got to interview you, but one of them is Cuban." And, you know, "He's gonna come
in a little while." He comes in,
we start talking. I go, "So where you from,
Miami or Union City?" He goes, "We used to be from
Union City, but my dad was a cop and he got shot
there 20 years ago." And all of a sudden I
got dizzy, like I saw Willy's dick all over again. [laughs] Well, I got the
fuck out of there. I ain't working with
this kiss of death. And that's the story. Thank you very much, guys.
