Good news! In this week’s issue of People Magazine Hank Baskett, father-dad of former Playmate Kendra Wilkinson explains his reason for having an affair with a transgender model while his wife was eight months pregnant.
He says last April he encountered a couple in a grocery store parking lot smoking marijuana and asked them for some pot. (I am guessing it was Von’s). The nice couple gave him a phone number and address so he could pick up purchases. Once he arrived at the destination he used the restroom and when he emerged, “I saw something I thought I would never see in my life.” The person who answered the door was a transgender woman, was nude and making out with another transgender woman. “I froze,” says Baskett. Then, the woman who answered the door approached Baskett and fondled him through his basketball shorts. “I didn’t engage in anything,” he says. “It was like a bank robbery. You never know when you’ll freeze. I don’t know if it was a couple of seconds or 15 seconds, because all I was saying was get out, get out, get out.”
But before you start jumping to conclusions understand Hank says he never cheated on his wife. Even though there is an alleged recording of Baskett trying to pay her off, he says the nice woman who answered the door was just a vendor. He was just trying to buy some medicinal plants and randomly fell into a compromising situation with two transgender women. He had no idea what was happening. It makes sense. Who hasn’t had this happen at the local Pavilion’s? You try to get milk and some toilet paper and next thing you know you are engaging in a pot transaction at a stranger’s house with two women who wear double pair of underwear.
I would have loved to be in the room with Hank and his publicist when they came up with this excuse. I am envisioning this was an earlier draft:
“I went to the grocery store to pick up some lighter fluid and baby wipes when I saw a nice couple making beaded necklaces out of the back of their car. I asked them if they were enjoying the weather and why they seemed so joyful and they said it was because they spend each morning smelling the fumes from a marijuana plant you can only find in a duplex in South Los Angeles. I must go, I told them. They wrote down a phone number and address on the back of my receipt and I headed down there immediately. I wasn’t concerned when there were cars burning in the street because the couple in the parking lot said it was a safe place. When I got to the door I was surprised a woman with high cheekbones wearing a wrestling uniform greeted me. She opened the door. She had glorious hair, but a deep voice like James Earl Jones. “May I come in and see the plants,” I asked her. She turned to the side and pointed to the back of the house and I followed her instruction because the walls in her house were a lovely coral and she was playing Karen Carpenter’s Greatest Hits. I asked to use the bathroom. While I was on the shitter I looked up sport scores and the lyrics to that Whitney Houston song where she talks about how the children are our future. There was a lovely candle that smelled like vanilla on the sink. She had hand Easter hand towels. When I was finished I was surprised to see the nice woman at the front door was standing in the hallway with a friend. They were both nude. “Is the air conditioning not working?” They didn’t answer me because they were kissing. “Can I still see the plants,” I asked them? “Is someone baking banana bread?” Still no answer. I thought I should go. I started to head out the door but one of them grabbed my basketball shorts. “I got them at Dick’s Sporting Goods,” I told her. “I like them because they are light weight and not so long that they look like Capri pants.” But then I started to get the feeling that she wasn’t inspecting my fabric, but my package. I felt uncomfortable because I am after all a husband and father. “I think I should go because my wife’s amniotic fluid might burst and I told her I would be back with those baby wipes. It was terrific meeting you guys. I’m wishing you and your friends a wonderful spring.” And then I went back home. “