Every week, John Salley, onetime Bad Boy and currently the arachnoid half of the Spider and the Henchman podcast, will regale us with an amusing and occasionally salacious story from his playing days. Today: the perils of juggling women and technology.
My senior year in college, I wanted my own room. Me and the star quarterback, John Dewberry, we get the singles in the first dorm, right at the highway. My room was not bigger than this [recording studio room]. I'm seven foot, and it wasn't this high. But it was a single.
So I went and I stole all this wood and I had these guys build out my room. This room is padded because I'm so paranoid about sound. I was taping this girl — I'm not gonna say her name — Lynn — I was audio taping her because she screamed so loud while we would have sex. She was screaming and hollering and John Dewberry would be like "damn."
Anyway, I was dating this girl — I'm not gonna say her name — Tara, and I'm on the other side of campus, seeing the star track chick. I live in Atlanta; no one locks their cars. I leave her place, this broad Tara is sitting in my front seat. My so-called girlfriend.
She goes, "let's take a ride to your room. I was fixing your futon." I was one of the only fools to have an answering machine, but I used to erase the messages. I gave Tara the key to my room, what am I thinking?
I go back to the room, she tells me to wait right here by the door. She walks in, and I hear shit moving around and I'm thinking, okay, she's got two girls there, they're about to beat the shit out of me. So I walk in the room, it's pitch black. She closes the door, I don't know where she is. It's pitch black in my room, there's no light coming in because I don't like light when I'm trying to sleep. Tara goes, "Johnny, do you love me?" I say, "yeah, I love things about you."
I figure I better cover my eyes because I can't see anything. She pushes the button, and I hear Lynn screaming. "Who's this?" I go, "Umm, umm, that's you."
Out of the blue, this bitch socks me right in the stomach. It was the hardest hit ever. All I remember is every bit of air coming out of my mouth, falling backwards.
I had a tape recorder next to my answering machine. She had pushed play on the tape recorder.