Dave Chappelle
Mercy Jerk
You know what I said to myself? I said, “I should just never go home. Fuck this shit.” By the way, that’s how people used to get divorced in the ’40s. There wasn’t no divorce court in America. Back in those days, if you wanted to get out your marriage, you’d just tell your wife, “Hey, baby, I’m gonna get a pack of cigarettes. I’ll be right back.” You would just leave with the clothes on your back. That’s when men were men. And there was no Internet back then, so you could move 11 miles away and have a whole new life. But I ended up going back home… late at night, and came in the room, and she was actually changing for bed. You can always tell your wife is mad at you when they cover their titties up when you walk in. “Oh!” “Let those titties out. It’s me, baby. Can we just talk about this for a minute?” She said, “David, there’s nothing to talk about. I already know you bit the sandwich. And don’t go looking for their lunch. I hid it.” I said, “I don’t want to talk about the sandwich. I want to talk about it. The tape. I know that’s why you’re mad.” It was a very difficult conversation. I had to crack a few jokes. And she laughed a little, and it helped her relax, and we started talking, and then she cracked a few jokes… that hurt my feelings, honestly. But— But we talked. And you know what she told me? She told me that she was madder about the second extortion tape than she was about the first one. Which doesn’t make sense at all. What’s wrong with a guy touching his own private parts? It’s my own business. It’s not like I do it all the time. As a matter of fact, sometimes I do it for her benefit. A lot of guys do this. It’s called the mercy jerk. That’s the one that happens in the middle of the night when you’re about to roll on top of her and you see her face, and you’re like, “She looks tired.” That takes a lot of love and discipline to back out of a room with a rock-hard dick. Sometimes I don’t make it. “Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Someone fell asleep with their socks off, didn’t they?” You can’t rape feet. You can’t rape feet. The only time I jerk off now is if I know how long she’ll be gone. That’s the only way I can get my head in the game. Sometimes she’ll tell me, “Dave, I’m gonna take the kids to my mom’s real quick. I’ll probably be back in a couple of hours.” “A couple hours?” You can get a good one in in two hours. That’s the kind of session where you’ll take all your clothes off. I’ll be butt-naked in the living room like, “Get these fucking toys out of my way!” Disgusting. Foot on the coffee table, just stroking it out, taking my time. And I got a bowl of cereal waiting for me right here. That’s when you have that privacy. You can have a loud orgasm. I miss those. [screaming] You know, when a guy busts a nut, right after that, there’s a window of six minutes where he does the most rational thinking he ever does. That’s when he’s always horrified. [grunting and panting] “My God, what have I done? Oh, my God, it’s everywhere. [screaming] Baba!” Thank you very much, Austin, Texas. I had a wonderful time. Be well, be happy. Good night, everybody. Thank you.

["Every Ghetto" by Talib Kweli plays]