Beni-Haaannnnaaaaa

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Meet up with Kevin after work and up for whatever he wants to do. Kevin was bitching on where to eat because he wants sushi and the "New York experience." At first I don't even want to eat, but after all the walking and some advice to head down 56th from a Mac store employee, my stomach was eating itself. So we go to check it out.

Walking down 56th street, see Joe's, which I've been to in Queens. Prices are more reedick than expected. Head further down to find not so special sushi spots. Kevin's not having it. Run into Beni-Hana and up the elevator to check out prices. Surprisingly reasonable, but they're saying that you can't just get sushi without hibachi. But, I pull a pretty please and they sit us at a hibachi table. I sit down and start looking at the menu. I'm ecstatic that theres just enough room for us. Kevin turns to me and asks, "Do we know that guy?" I look over and turn back to Kevin .

"Kevin, that's fucking Tracy Morgan."

It was fucking Tracy Morgan sitting at our hibachi table. At this point I have no idea what to do. Him and his wife are only talking to the couple nearest to them so I'm thinking they are all together. There's a totally full hibachi table across from us celebrating someone's birthday and all of a sudden Tracy busts out with a rap about loving his woman, something that sounds incredibly familiar, but I'm too starstruck to react. I'm frozen, smiling, and staring at him. Afterwards, everyone's not clapping or cheering. There's actually an awkward silence. Kevin yells out, "Go Tracy Morgan!" and I follow up with a "Whoo!" along with a mini-cheering fist. Thus is the beginning of one of the funnest/iest nights of my life.

Tracy takes the spotlight, completely ignoring the hibachi chef, who keeps calling him "homeboy" and focusing on the "four beautiful couples sittin in the backah Beni-Hana" or as Tracy calls it, the "cool kids' table." He basically tries out material on us and we're more then happy to oblige. He "loves it at the Beni-Hana, I've got a complete audience." From selling $2 microwaves for crack or how Whitney's teeth aren't real and her Grammy is sitting on a Jewish entertainment lawyer's home office desk...to how single mothers try to over compensate with their kids by trying to be their friend instead of their mother, which only hurts them since kids need boundaries or they turn out like Lindsey Lohan. Followed by a short, but sweet Micheal Jackson inspired serenade. He's going between talking to the table and talking to just us. I can't even think of what to say because I feel like it has to be funny. I'm just happy to be part of the "cool kids' table."

After a round of hot sake shots from the table across the way and a water glass "Happy Holidays" toast from Tracy to the "four beautiful couples," it's non-stop laughter because the jokes are (1) really funny and (2) because you can't believe Tracy Morgan is at your fucking hibachi table. Someone asks him what he's doing after dinner. He gestures with his chin over to me and Kevin, points and says, "I'm thinking about taking these two out." Inside my heart skips a beat. What the fuck is going on? This is now the time when Tracy decides to pick on each couple.

The couple to the right of us and across from him comically turn out to be brother and sister. "Ya'll are real close, I nevah take my sista to Beni-Hana." This evolves into the story of how he grew up and how his dad was a druggie. I almost see his eyes get watery as he stares right at me. I turn to Kevin, "We're having a fucking heart-to-heart with Tracy Morgan." I can tell Kevin is just completely nervous.

Then Tracy looks at us:
TM: "How long ya'll been together?"
ME: "Ohhh, We're not together. This is my little brother's friend visiting from Florida."
KV: "Yea Tracy Morgan, she's like my sister."
TM: "Yo! You need to get on that. She's a pretty girl right there."
ME: *laughing*
KV: "Ok Tracy Morgan."
TM: "Naw I'm serious. You like a little Clark Kent ovah der, but late at night you turn inta Supahman. It's Clark Kent ovah there."
KV: "Ok Tracy Morgan."
ME: *laughing*

Tracy continues to try to give Kevin advice on how to make moves on me, "She's older, that means she'll be able to teach you something." I turn to his wife and ask, "How do you live with him? Are you just laughing constantly? Does he really shit his pants when he gets drunk?" She looks at me stunned and shaking her head what?

WF: "What??"
ME: "Does he poop his pants when he gets drunk?"
WF: "Ohhhh nooo nooo."
ME: "I'm sure everyone asks you that."
WF: "No, actually no one has ever asked me that."
ME: "Well he makes you think he really does do that."
US: *laughing*
TM: "Yo, she likes you. She took you to Beni-Haaannnaaa"
ME: "We had no idea we we're going to come here. Completely random."
TM: "Well people only take people here that they like. Let's go to Beni-Haaannnaaa. Girls like to drag out the Haaannnaaa all sexy like. Beni-Haaannnaaa. Beni-Haaannnaaa. Beni-Haaannnaaa."

He keeps repeating it like a chant and undulating with every "nnnaaa," as he reaches over to give his wife yet another hug and kiss on the cheek. He even turns down the onions because he has to "kiss onah" later. Hahahahhahhaaaa (a bit hysterically)...still can't believe it. The couple to the left of us pays for Tracy's dinner and leaves. We're waiting for our change and I tell Kevin, "It's now or never. We have to get a picture." Without a single thought, Kevin says, "Um, Tracy Morgan? Do you think we can have a picture?" He looks at us, puts his hands in his lap, tilts his head to the side like your favorite Auntie and says, "Of course! you cannnn." Takin pictures witcha camera phone, Kevin and I both get a pic.

A "Happy Holidays" farewell and Tracy and his wife take off. We leave a minute later. I'm jumping up and down, squealing and skipping, "That was fucking awesome!" I'm so excited, I realize that I've almost run right into Tracy's wife. As usual, at the worst times, I again realize I need to be more aware of my surroundings. Kevin and I make our way around the corner and it hits me that Tracy is probably in the men's bathroom. I gleefully utter while bouncing up and down, "Go in there Kevin! Go in there!"

I get out of the bathroom and Kevin is standing there with his hands in his pockets looking bamboozled.
ME: "Welllll, was he in there?"
KV: "Dude, you'll never guess what happened."
ME: "What what what what?!"
KV: "So I'm washing my hands and Tracy Morgan comes up to the sink and nudges my elbow like, 'Hey brotha' and starts to wash his hands. Then he says, 'Yo, yo girl is fucking hot! I know you're up here in New York visitin' or whateva, but do what you got to do!"
ME: "WHAT?!"
KV: "Yea dude! and then I start saying how you're older then me and like my big sister and it'd be weird. So he grabs me like this"
Kevin puts his hands on the outside of my arms and starts shaking me.
KV: "She's fucking hot! This is your chance! She's fucking hot!"

I'm dying of laughter and remember that they could possibly be within earshot. I'm learning see. So we go to the elevator.
TM: "Well look who it issss."
ME: "Hiii"

Down to the first floor and Kevin asks them where we can get some ice cream.
TM: "Oh you mean that Baskin 'n Robbins?"
KV: "Yea, where do you guys live by the way?"
TM: "Upper west side, not too far, bout 15 minutes. Where do you live?"
ME: "Oh, I live in Queens."
TM: "Oh, you'll be able to find a Baskin 'n Robbins in Queens. Ya'll should go to Queens."
ME: "You know what. There is one right by my place."
TM: "Ya seeee."

We said our goodbyes and start walking. Hooting and hollering, skipping and squealing, I'm "WHOO"-ing randomly down 5th avenue. I stop and grab Kevin by the arm, "How's THAT for a New York experience?!"


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