Clarice – 2016 – Chapter 5 – Happy Birthday, Baby – Part One

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

Advertisements

Today is Clarice’s birthday. Which she says is the actual birthday of Martin Luther King. She set it up that I would get on a train and go to her neighborhood today. She lives in Upper Darby. She’s supposed to be at the 69th Street station at 12:30pm today to pick me up and take me to her favorite restaurant for brunch. (What’s this day going to run me?)

I stop at the salon in the morning. Normally I work on Sundays but I switched with Trish, so I could hang with Clarice on her birthday. I kind of feel special that out of all of the men Clarice could have spent her 62nd birthday with, she picked me. I chat a bit with Trish and then head over to Suburban Station.

I have to get on the Market Frankford line and take it to 69th street in Upper Darby. Little sketchy, but it’ll be okay. I drop my token at the turnstile and go through. I see that there is a yellow police tape blocking off the steps to go down to the platform. But it’s the only way to get to Upper Darby. So like the moron I am, I go under the tape and head down to the platform. I’m waiting for a while. I notice I am the only one on this side of the tracks.

Some guy who looks like he works there says to me, “You know the trains are only running on the other side today.”

So I scamper back up the steps, under the tape, and over to the other side. Within a few minutes the train to 69th street arrives. I hop on and find a seat. This is only our third date. Do you think she believes in the 3rd date rule? I don’t believe in that horse shit notion, but maybe she does. I know she likes me. She’s a nice looking lady and fit. On our last date she said she has no ass and skinny legs, but great tits. I’m a leg man, and I’m not thinking about any of her physical attributes. She is in good shape for 62 years old. I think it’s that theater background I’m struggling with. She was an opera singer for years which tells me she has little real world experience, like Annabelle. That makes her come off as a little silly and immature. Can you imagine being in your sixties and still behaving like you’re in your twenties. Crazy! But now I know what to expect from these artist types.

She always says I’m fitting her in. Why would she feel she needs to be a priority? Does she think she’s the only woman I’m dating? Couldn’t there be someone younger and of greater value in my life right now?

I’m a little nervous. Is that a good thing? I think it’s only because I going to a strange area, and then she’s going to drive us to a restaurant. Am I going to have sex with her today? I think I would. Yea, I totally would. Maybe since she told me she has cancelled with other guys she wasn’t interested in, and never cancelled with me, I’m the one. I brought condoms. But she’s at an age where she is well out of range of ever having children. Speaking of which, you should be wary of a woman who never remarried, even when she was young, and still hot. What’s up with that? I do like the idea of never being able to get her pregnant ever. Because the last thing I want is that nightmare now. At 62 do you think she’ll have a dry coochie like Halle Berry?

What? You’ve never heard that? It’s true!

I want to have sex with Mary too. (See: Mary – 2014 to Present – The Unexpected Table for Two) That would be a fucking record. Literally. I like Mary. It would probably be low maintenance sex. Me and the hot grannies! Hip cracking sex!

Once you follow my blog into 2018, you’ll know this was all nonsense….

Anyway, I hop off the train at 69th street station. The area is sketchy like I said. I text her that I’m there. She’s parked across the street. I cross the street and get into her car. It’s a little messy. We greet with a kiss and off we go to the restaurant. During the ride over we’re chatting and I’m making her laugh as usual. Maybe I’m doing my ‘nervous talking thing’. I ask her if she’s been on any good dates lately. She says she has decided to not answer that question anymore. I’m fine with that, but it seems juvenile. If she has decided to not answer that question, what is she telling me? That either she has stopped dating and is seeing me exclusively, or that she’s still dating other men. I’m going with the latter. I don’t care. I just feel bad for the other saps like me, buying her food and drinks all the time.

We pull into the parking lot of the restaurant. She drives right up near the restaurant looking for a close spot. I tell her there were lots of spots in the back. She doesn’t like this idea. My father never understood why people always wanted to park right on top of a place. He would call them, lazy gasoline asses. He would always park a bit away so we could walk and get some exercise. Plus, it’s easier to leave a place when your car is closer to the exits. So because I was raised like this I don’t like her attitude in regard to parking.

We go into the place and I check our coats. She has a reservation, which is good. It looks like a popular spot. The brunch crowd is good. Apparently, this is her favorite spot to hang out. She seems to know the staff very well.

It’s some sort of Asian fusion place. They seat us at this little table against the wall. It’s one of these little booths where you have to sit next to the person you’re with. Then pull the table in towards you. I don’t really care for this kind of set up. I don’t need to be right next to someone when I’m eating. The manager comes over and greets her, and she introduces me. She announces that it’s her birthday like she was eight. I kind of hate adults that make a big deal about their birthdays. The manager says that her brunch is on the house, but she was so busy projecting, I don’t think she heard him.

Of course she orders champagne, so I do the same. They bring us plates and tell us it’s a buffet. I’m not really a fan of buffets. You don’t know who’s been touching the food. You don’t know how long it’s been sitting out. You tend to overeat sometimes. Just not a fan. I’m thinking a lot of overweight people like buffets. They can eat as much as they like.

I load up my plate and return to the table. The table is really small, and I don’t really like it. But I’ll be good because it’s her special day. I actually went back for seconds.

After brunch the bill comes, and of course she doesn’t go near it. I knew I’d be paying because it’s her birthday. She just isn’t valuable enough to me for me to keep this up. And frankly, this could be the last time I ever see her. The good news is, the bill was only $39 for everything, so that’s not too bad.

I get our coats, and we’re back in the car. Now she wants to go to Ridley Lake Park out in Delaware County.

 

Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion of this story.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Author: phicklephilly

Copyright © 2016 by Phicklephilly All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. All stories and characters are based on real people and events. The names and images have been changed to protect their privacy. Comment Rules: Remember what Fonzie was like? Cool. That’s how we’re gonna be — cool. Critical is fine, but if you’re rude, we’ll delete your stuff. Please do not put your URL in the comment text and please use your PERSONAL name or initials and not your business name, as the latter comes off like spam. Have fun and thanks for adding to the conversation!”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s