Kita – Chapter 55 – Appearance – Part 2

She stumbled before the lion and sadly I took her down.

This salon job groomed me for my current position at the restaurant in Rittenhouse. I realize I had to do this job to transition to where I am now.

It’s so good, but let me get to that in a minute.

All of the wonderful young people who I’ve had the honor to work with has been amazing.

No more do I get up at 6 in the morning to go sit in a cubicle to work for a bunch of loser assholes. No more do I go to 3 meetings a week to waste my time and not be out selling. No more do I have to look for a better job on LinkedIn which is an absolute waste of time and is just a corporate Facebook. No more of any of that. I simply go to work, bring the charm and the sales management ability and go home.

Done.

Do I work more hours? Fuck yea, but I like what I do now. Great salary, free food and TIPS! I’m amazed!

I love it!

As much fun as I’ve had here at the salon. If I could find a way to get the fuck out of here forever, I would. (And I will, but for now it’s $200 in easy money.)

I made that in tips at the restaurant today so I’m not long for the salon.

It’s weird that the whole tanning salon mantra is going through my mind right now. But it is what it is. This is happening, and I want it to end. I had high hopes, it went nowhere, kind of like where Achilles is going, but I can no longer ride that dead-end with him as he collects money in a dying industry.

Amelia says she hates everyone that comes in here. Tanning is for a certain crowd and you know what? They’re all shitty people for the most part. I get the whole… I don’t want to be whiter than my wedding dress, and I’m going to Mexico, and I don’t want to burn to a crisp, but the regular tanners… fuck you.

You’re all losers.

They think Eileen is coming back this year. Ha! I’ve been in touch with her and I’m trying to get her a better job at Square 1682!

It’s over, and I’m just here transitioning and collecting my $200 a month because I have nothing better to do on a Sunday.

All of this is running through my head instead of the thing that should be there.

 

I had sex with Kita on two occasions at this very site.

 

She’s 22 years old.

WTF? How did this happen?

I know how this happened.

You have a naive young girl who’s obsessed with tanning. (Addiction and body issues) I work at a tanning salon. I’m nice and a dad. I listen and offer advice. I’m good at getting back to her on an ongoing basis to help her after a barrage of texts about a foolish boy she’s seeing. I give her gifts. I give her pepper spray to protect herself. I give her snacks. I take her out to a nice dinner. I take her to lunch. I show her how a boy should treat a girl.

Every boy in her life is a fail. Her dad is unavailable. Why did he even adopt these two Asian girls???

 

I’m patient and present.

I’m of course attracted to her based on my history.

I’m good to her.

She stumbled before the lion and sadly I took her down.

 

The buzzer goes off for sunbed 3, and I know Kita is finished her session.

 

Kita comes out and approaches the counter.

She smiles.

I smile.

“I’ve missed you, Charles.”

“I’ve missed you too, Kita.”

“Charles can we set up a date somewhere we can catch up and talk?”

“Of course. I’ll text you and we’ll coordinate our schedule to make that happen.”

“Thanks so much. We have a lot to discuss.”

“Really?”

“No. All good. Text me.”

“Okay dear. We’ll work it out.

“Good. I look forward to that.

She smiles and turns. I watch her pad out of the salon like a kitten. I quietly walk to the hallway and watch her as she goes down the stairs.

Those lovely legs.

I’m happy that Kita’s returned to me. My heart sings. I’m so happy to see her.

I’m also thinking about a bunch of her shitty life drama, but we’ll have to get to the hard cold, fact that we had sex.

Oh, and I will ease myself into that conversation…

I need to set up a little date to catch up.

God, she’s beautiful.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!

Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

Kita – Chapter 54 – Appearance – Part 1

“Funny how everybody wants to be dark, but nobody really wants to be black.”

I settle the cash register drawer. I take the profits, wrap them in a receipt and drop them in the safe in the office. Every room’s been swept and mopped. (I know I said I didn’t care but I’m dedicated to any job I always do.) The laundry’s done and the trash has been taken out.

Normally I would gather my stuff and head out.

But today is different.

Because Kita’s in a stand up tanning bed getting tan. I haven’t seen her in months and the last time I saw her was insane.

I should have seen those encounters coming. What did I think? A naive inexperienced young girl leans on me for support and I exploit it. I feel horrible. I’m a dad. I should’ve never let that happen.

Why did I go on all of those little dates with her? Why did I buy her all of those little gifts?

This a young girl who was adopted into a wealthy family. She’s lived a sheltered life. She went to a private school for girls.

She has no clue when it comes to navigating affairs of the heart.

She had a loser boyfriend that grew tired of her and dumped her before her freshman year at university.

He was her first love and she lost her virginity to him. They both didn’t even realize what they had with each other.

Sure, she’s a zero, but I’ve seen pictures of him. The usual thumb. I use the word thumb because my friend Molly used that to once describe a guy that was a nothing. I like that. Hold up your thumb. That’s him. A nothing.

She doesn’t know any better. She’s 22. No clue.

I look back on myself at that age and you think you knew better, and then you realize your whole life was run by desire, emotion, inexperience and privilege.

You have no idea at 22 what life’s really like.

It’s so much more complicated than that, but only if you make it that way. With relationships, and possessions.

Life can be simple if you want it, but most people when they’re young don’t want that.

It’s sad, really.

The shoes with the red soles. The hand bags with the MK, LV, or Coach on them. So sad. So empty. You’re just a walking advertisement of assumed affluence.

You sad fools.

That idea of success, and affluence, when really you just got ripped off by a large corporation that sold you and idea that buying their shitty stuff made you look rich and successful.

That’s the world today.

Our social media that shows the greatest hits, and hides all of the fear, loss and debt most people have.

It’s all a lie.

 

I look at the timer and Kita’s been cooking in the booth for eight minutes. She’ll be out soon. Of course she does the full nine minutes to ensure she’s dark enough.

Funny how everybody wants to be dark, but nobody really wants to be black.

I’m in an odd moment here on a Sunday at the salon.

I thought by now I’d have some sort of business partnership with Achilles. Turns out it was all just careless talk at a tanning salon. After everything we discussed for the last year and a half… NOTHING came out of it.

I’m not bitter. I get it. Achilles is stuck in the past and has the inability to recognize a real opportunity when it’s presented to him. Sadly, because of who he is, he can have the best employee that he’s ever had working for him, and he’ll simply treat them like they’re any other $9 employee he’s ever had.

His ignorance to elegance doesn’t surprise me.

Sadly, I left corporate America and the rat race, but actually fell into a similar situation. My talent squandered by ignorance or sadly… jealousy.

So same thing, but in an entirely different business.

But happily, I adapted and found a better job to make my life extremely better from learning how to do this kind of job. I’m so… grateful.

Not to Achilles. But to myself.

Poor Achilles.

He’s a sad cliche. Greek. 50. Balding and always wears a hat to hide it. Works out and eats crazy supplements all the time. The 30-year-old girlfriend he’s been banging since she was 22. He’s been clear on no kids, so this poor girl never gets that with his misogynist. Never talks about his ex-wife, or his other two sons. owns a $20k Italian motorcycle. also has a red 90’s Z28, with a booming stereo and an exhaust that is extra loud. Don’t get me started on the outdoor jacuzzi….

Here is a man who’s trapped in his no game/no personality teen life, who fears aging.

I thought this was my key out of the corporate rat race and it didn’t happen.

But this story has a happy ending.

I get out in the final reel of this movie.

 

Kita will be out in a minute and now I have to deal with her.

 

Where the fuck is this going?

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!

Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

Kita – Chapter 53 – Apparition

It’s odd that once you know there’s no future in a job how quickly your mind leaves it.

“Hey, how are you? WE should meet up!”

Kita xo

I’m stunned by her text. (See: Sun Stories – Just Another Sunday at this Fucking Salon)

“I’m doing well! You’re right. It’s been a minute. We should meet up.”

I wait.

Nothing.

Then I get another text.

“When do you work? Every time I go there now you’re never there. I thought you left.”

Now is not the time to make Kita wait. “I picked up some shifts at a restaurant in Rittenhouse, so I’m only at the salon on Sundays now.”

“Oh cool. I’ll stop in Sunday to tan.”

“Okay!”

Wow. I really thought that after what happened, Kita was gone from my life. I figured the pure shame of what occurred would drive her from me forever.

I really didn’t know what was going to happen next. But so far it didn’t sound bad.

I knew I’d have to wait a week until I saw her, if she was going to come in at all.

But knowing Kita, she had to tan. It was her addiction. She’d be in. She’d tan before Sunday just to feed her addiction, but would she follow through with Sunday?

It all seemed surreal. All of the time I’d put in with her as and elder friend and mentor, and the paradox of our dates and romance.

Then the sexual explosion between us. I wanted it, but never in my wildest dreams actually thought that I’d be with little Kita.

But it did happen. There’s no turning back from that. She either shows up Sunday or I never hear from her again and pray for the best for her.

I work the week at the restaurant, and all is well. That’s my life now. That’s my main stream of income. I love working for them and my life is in balance and moving forward.

I’ve given all of my shifts at the salon to Amelia and Skyler. I’ve been reduced to the Sunday guy. 11am to 4pm. An easy shift that yields $200 a month for now.

Sadly, what I once saw as a business opportunity with Achilles has been reduced to me doing everybody a favor by taking the Sunday shift that no one wants.

That’s why I’m out of there. If I can figure out a way to leave the salon forever, I’ll do it. But for now, I’ll hang. I’m not angry at all with Achilles, I just realized that the salon isn’t going anywhere and I need to be out of there.

I’m with a growing company with some really great people, and I’m happy with the way things are unfolding. I chased this new business, and I caught it!

I wanted so much with the salon and Achilles. For two and a half years we could have built something, but in the end it was a loss. Tanning is shrinking in this city, and the gym is an absolute failure.

I cashed out of that and didn’t lose a cent.

I’m happy I made the leap when I did.

The great thing is, working at the salon groomed me to step into this new job and lead effortlessly. I manage the store. The food is free. Tips are flowing along with a great salary. I’ve been asked to do some marketing for them. It’s a growing brand and I couldn’t be more excited to work there.

Everything is better now!

But my time is limited. Now more than ever.

I thought with my schedule changing with the new job, I’d be more available to meet up with friends for happy hour now. (1st time in over 2 years because of my night shifts at the salon) But no. I finish work and want to go home.

I’m done with public life. I’ve been on stage for the last 10 years in my media jobs. Always out, selling and being social. My photo being taken with the hottest girls at the best events.

I’m done with all of that.

It’s boring and a waste of my time and money.

I love being in the ‘industry’ but I love that mine is a simple model. Not a bar. No late nights. No drunks or shitty employees or guests.

Simple hard work and elegance. A decent days work for a good dollar. Just bringing extraordinary client service to whoever comes in the door.

I’m not meant to work in this salon or for Achilles anymore.

I was for a time, but that was to transition me to a better gig. It took me a while to realize that, but I got it. It was meant to be.

I met so many wonderful people along the way.

(SEARCH)

Haley

Summer

Amelia

Eileen

Skyler

Amazing girls that were so great to work with. I love them all in different ways. It was sweet moments in my history that can’t be repeated!

But here I am. Still hanging on. Actually phoning it on a Sunday from 11am to 4pm.  I play classic hits on the radio and the regular clients know it’s me who’s here. It’s dead this time of year and we maybe get a dozen people rolling through here now.

I stand here at the counter and read other people’s crazy dating stories online just for entertainment.

It’s odd that once you know there’s no future in a job how quickly your mind leaves it.

I do know what needs to be done here but no longer work with the fierce vigilance I once had for something I thought I had a future in.

Now I roll in 15 minutes before we open. I no longer sweep, mop, or take out the trash on Sundays. There just isn’t enough traffic to warrant me to give a shit anymore.

It sucks because I really thought Achilles and I were going to create some sort of business together.

But now I realize it was all careless talk day after day in the salon and nothing will ever change here. But that behavior mirrors his own life and his relationship with his significant other. I feel sorry for her too.

For some reason I can no longer get on wordpress to write or edit my blog at the salon anymore. Part of me feels that Achilles has blocked my access because he’s bitter that I left him for a better gig… but I digress.

 

The worst part of working any shift in any retail or hospitality job is when people come in at the last-minute when you’re trying to close.

What I just wrote will be agreed upon by everyone I know. I don’t even need to check in with them. We hate it, and hate all of the people who pull that shit.

I deal with the last of the line steppers on this rainy Sunday and pray I can get out of here at a reasonable hour today. Not that it really matters. I’m done at 4pm. It’s still light out here in our fair city. I can still walk around the corner and go to Marathon at 16th and Sansom and have a slammin’ Manhattan and a BBQ chicken sandwich, and just let go of the week.

I’ve served everybody, everyday, all week-long, and it’s nice to have somebody serve me for once. I don’t want anything special in my life. But an exquisite cocktail and a simple sandwich with a coke is pretty sweet by the end of the week.

I load fresh towels in the bathroom, and collect the trash, hoping no one comes in at closing. It happens so much I wish I could unplug the phone for all of these asshole line steppers.

I’m walking back to the front of the salon and I’m about to lock the doors at 3:55 when I see her.

“Sorry I’m late. Do you have time for one more?”

She’s wearing a tight white tank top that clings to her small breasts. She has a matching tennis skirt that showcase her shapely brown legs.

She looks gorgeous.

 

I’m helpless.

 

“Kita.”

 

“Nice to see you, Charles.”

“How are you?

“I’m good. But I had to come and see you.

“Okay….” (Worried)

“But first I need to tan because I feel so pale.” ( She’s as brown as a penny)

“Stand up or lay down?”

“Stand up.”

“You can go to 3, full-time.”

“What are you doing after this?”

“Umm.. I was going to go around the corner and have a drink.”

 

“Want some company?”

 

I looked at her. It took a moment. I needed to flashback to what had happened between us. The anxiety is starting to smolder in my stomach.

It only took about 10 seconds.

“Yea, that’d be great.”

“Cool. I wanna talk to you about some stuff.”

Kita headed to room 3.

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

(Giggles and the door slams)

 

What am I doing?

Not Again…

 

 

Sun Stories – Just Another Sunday at the Salon…

Cherie is a wonderful woman but sadly has failed me on so many levels I have decided to compartmentalized my life.

Despite everything else that’s been going on, I was still  focused on my last (and probably final) encounter with Kita.

I thought back on our relationship all the while dating Cherie and cheating on her with other women.

Was Kita just another notch in the bedpost that was my life now?

No. She’s a sweet girl I really like and want to help.

But who am I kidding? As nice and as charming and as moral as I am, I’m just the best shark wrapped in wolf’s clothing dressed as a lamb.

What have I done?

I really liked little Kita. I guided her as best I could with all of the knowledge and wisdom about dating and relationships.

She would blow up my phone on my day off about her problems with her silly boyfriends. I was there for her. I got her pepper spray. Snacks, knowing she’d be in to enjoy them. Lunches. Dinner dates. Treats to send her off with at Christmas break.

I did everything a good boyfriend should do for his girl. But she wasn’t my girlfriend.

I did these things because I fell in love with her. A 22-year-old girl.

Her dad is busy and is never around. Her mom put her on antidepressants to deal with her. She’s obsessed with tanning.

This is damaged girl.

I just wanted to help her navigate her life because she had no experience in the ways of romance.

But in doing so. I made her mine.

Sure, when I laid eyes on her I was immediately attracted to this cute, fit little Asian beauty, but that was nothing more than the passing phicklephilly lust. I never saw all of the gifts and dates we experienced. Not in a million years.

Or did I?

Is this what I do now?

I’ve always been attracted to younger women my whole life. Is this how I do it now? I protect, shelter, counsel and then covet these young girls?

Now I don’t know.

If you read the entire Kita series I think you can see a real interest and care for my subject. But rather quickly once she awakens from her folly she submits to me. I never elude to it or ask for it. I never had to in my life. I’ve always been disgusted by men trying to get sex from women in their life. It’s always seemed so clumsy to me.

Every time I’ve ever been intimate with a woman it’s always been relinquished to me without request. I think that’s how it should always be.

It’s her choice.

She decides she wants you.

You can never take her or press her no matter how much you want to. If you’re a good man, she’ll yield to you.

Kita came to me.

She came here drunk and ready to play.

I feel something about that, but it isn’t guilt or sorrow. It was an exciting act of celebration and retribution for us both. She the broken toy with the lost boyfriend, and shitty current boyfriend, and me the sheer joy of the ease at which I was able to close this sweet young client.

Cherie is a wonderful woman but sadly has failed me on so many levels I’ve decided to compartmentalized my life.

I just never thought I’d fall this far.

I was so in love with Cherie. Our love was so sweet. She was always so horny, which was fun. I’d never met a woman who was so well-connected to her raw sexuality.

Truly a queen.

But here I am doing my job and wondering after what happened between Kita and me if I will ever see her again.

As much as I’ve been a mentor to her, I have to admit all I’ve wanted to do was to split her like a ripe melon and fuck her back to China.

See if you know anyone that has the balls to say that?

I can’t lie in my blog. I’ve got readers counting on me to be honest.

It happened. I did it to her.

How is she?

Did I mess her up?

I can’t live with that. Too much anxiety.  I never want to hurt a girl. I couldn’t live with myself.

If Achilles finds out I’ll probably be fired.

Rule 3… You’re available but not available.

I’m losing my shit.

What did I do to this girl?

I was her mentor on every level and then I fucked her on the utility sink of the salon.

I don’t know what to do.

Will she just stop coming here and cancel her membership?

Fuck.

I can’t think about this but I can’t help it.

I love Kita.

That blonde, tanned, fit little 22-year-old naive Asian girl who is super hot and dumb that you just slammed on the back sink of the tanning salon.

I feel awful, but exhilarated.

I put in a lot of time with her. all of the hours of counseling. the endless texts. It was so annoying. Was it wrong for me to extract my fee?

No. She offered herself willingly.

But still.

 

I sweep and mop the salon, and punch out.

This fucking place.

I no longer like it, or Achilles.  But it groomed me to be great at my new job as manager at the restaurant in Rittenhouse.

I lock the door and head down the steps. I card lock the outside door and head West on Walnut street.

I’m tired of working here. This whole relationship with Achilles went nowhere. Which I have learned is how all of his relationships go. Even the one with his girlfriend.

I walk South on 16th, Starbucks and a healthy alternative restaurant that will be out of business in 6 months because their rent is to high and their covers are too light.

I need to quit smoking.

I hate smoking.

The dirty smoke, ashes, paper, glue, carbon monoxide, all of that and $10 bucks a pack need to go away.

 

I’m puffing my celebratory smoke as I walk past the Italian restaurant where I had my final dinner with Annabelle before we saw the worst show ever and then she later dumped me.

I feel nothing now for Annabelle. She is just a series of blog posts that tell my story with her.

 

I approach my place in Rittenhouse  and I pause.

I stand on the steps of my walk up and think about my life for a moment.

I’m surrounded by good people and family.

My health is fine.

I’m killing it in my work life. (And for once I actually like what I do!)

I’m loved and I truly love.

I have things to look forward to.

 

My Magic 5!

 

I’m good. we’ve come a long way.

Like I always do if Lorelei isn’t home, I’m going to sit in my chair in the living room and watch Mr. Robot on the 50 inch.

Life is good.

I’m at peace an I don’t have to be in work until 5pm tomorrow.

 

I’m actually dozing when I get the text.

 

“Hey, how are you? WE should meet up!”

Kita xo

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!

Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Crazy Dating Stories – Volume 1, is Now Available for Sale on Amazon

If you liked Phicklephilly, you’ll love Crazy Dating Stories. These are tales from the last 20 years of my dating life.

Phicklephilly the book, is a story about me moving to Philly and beginning my search for true love in our fair city.

Crazy Dating Stories is the most insane, irreverent, disgusting, and funny tales from my dating life. Everybody has stories like these, and I’d love to hear them. We’ve all been on a Date from Hell!

I went back into my history and dredged up the wildest, weirdest things that have ever happened to me while dating.

While writing and compiling these dating stories, I realized I’d been on so many I couldn’t fit them all into one book. So this is the first of a trilogy. I hope for my sake there’s never a Volume 4!

I’ve decided to make them available on Amazon Kindle and then eventually in paperback.

With everything going on with the Coronavirus and most of us having to stay home from work, now would be the time to grab a copy and get some good laughs at my expense!

You won’t be disappointed!

If anything, you’ll feel sorry for me. You’ll wonder, why did this guy hang in there as long as he did on these dates?

Now we know the answer.

To eventually get a funny story out of it!

 

You can buy it here:

 

 

MORE TO COME! 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!

Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

Singaporean Women Share Their Worst Tinder Date Stories

It’s no secret that dating apps like Tinder have made meeting new people easier than ever.

But every right swipe comes with the potential for something to go seriously wrong-particularly since it’s not uncommon to hear about a match made in online dating heaven become a first date from hell.

On the app?

Beware.

Because going by these Tinder nightmare stories from these six Singaporean women, it’s possible to hit it off with a guy over text but find yourself in a really uncomfortable situation when meeting him IRL.

1. WHEN HE WAS A CHEAPSKATE

He was late for half an hour, and long story short, he ended up ordering a tower of beer-which is crazy for two people on a weekday night.

When it came to settling the bill, the bar staff charged it all on my card because I had it on tab… and he didn’t offer to pay.

The bill came up to more than $200.

He still had the gall to try to get me to go back to his place after.

He later offered to pay his share of the bill when I asked the next morning, but the process of getting the money back took more than a month.

Apparently, he had issues with his bank account and what not, so we had to meet up again for him to pass me back in cash.

Needless to say, we never had a second date.

2. WHEN HE KEPT TALKING ABOUT HIS EX

We actually hit it off pretty well at first.

After a couple of beers, we started talking about our past relationships, which is quite normal, but thereafter he just wouldn’t stop talking about his ex.

I tried to change the subject a couple of times but he somehow find a way to continue talking about her even though I was clearly uninterested.

It became clear that he wasn’t over her and I started feeling really awkward.

I’m not sure if he knew what he did wrong; but when I didn’t reply his text the day after, he didn’t bother following up either.

3. WHEN HE WAS NOT WHAT HE SEEMED

He seemed like my type, worked for Google then burnt out and became a digital nomad.

He had a hippy style, curly hair and loves surfing. Best part he was literally 1km distance away from me so I was super excited to meet.

He also swiped right, so we started chatting.

He invited me to a beach park for a sunset picnic – how romantic, right?

3 Singaporean women share their worst first-date stories

So I went, and discovered he has been living in a tent for one month on the beach.

The beach picnic was pretty much how he ate all the time.

We had interesting conversations about his journey, but of course when he offered to get hot and heavy in his tent, I said KTHXBYE.

Squeezing into a tent? It’s a no for me.

4. WHEN HE WAS JUST BAD NEWS

I met this guy at a bar.

It was a disaster from the beginning.

He was very rude and demanding to the server at our table, which was immediately a red flag.

And boy was he handsy.

When I asked him about the martial arts photo I saw on his profile, he proceeded to show me how he would block my attacker … by demonstrating it on me.

Then, as the date progressed, he put his hand on my knee.

And his arm around my shoulders.

I kept trying to gently pull away, but he didn’t seem to get the hint.

Eventually, I just said I was tired (thankfully it was a work day) and wanted to leave.

That’s when he offered that I come to his house-which was just across the road.

Obviously he always had the intention of inviting me back after the date.

Bonus? I was chatting with a friend about said bad date and it turns out, she went out with him once before!

And he made the exact same moves on us – at the same bar!

5. WHEN HE WAS MORE INTO SOCIAL MEDIA

There was a live band playing so we couldn’t talk much.

What’s worse, he started a Facebook Live video to film the band playing (apparently they were playing his favorite Metallica songs) which I thought was pretty rude.

He also checked in at the location, and when his friends came to the same place, he just left me behind to say hi to them.

I was so tempted to just pay and leave!

Needless to say, it wasn’t a very pleasant experience and I didn’t reply his messages after that.

6. WHEN HE WAS NOT AN ANIMAL LOVER

We were out on a date and I told him about my new rescue dog, which I had only just adopted at the time.

I told him all about her, such as how she had been abused and was still very skittish.

I also told him that she sleeps with me in the same room, sometimes on the same bed, and it provides us both comfort.

His response? That he cannot date a girl who does that, and that I should kick the dog out of the room.

His defense is that it was unhygienic.

I thought it was a really cocky thing to say on a first date and I was so annoyed.

That was a deal-breaker for me.

Never spoke to him again.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Buy the book, Phicklephilly now available on Amazon!

Listen to Phicklephilly LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly       Facebook: phicklephilly     Twitter: @phicklephilly

My Experience at an Asian Massage Parlor

Here’s a story one of my followers sent me…

Thank you Joe R.

So during the summer of my junior year I was staying in in town over the summer working as a certified nursing assistant and taking a chemistry course through the university. I had joined a gym to get back into shape and maybe lose a couple pounds. It had been awhile since I weight-lifted and anyone who’s been in that boat knows how sore you are after the first couple times getting back on the horse.

While, on my drive to work out, I kept passing a dilapidated white building with a bright red sign reading “Asian Massage” on the outside. I mean, this thing was a glorified shack. The first time I passed by gave me a chuckle. The stereotypical Asian massage parlor with happy endings had long been ingrained in my mind. I had seen plenty of jokes and portrayals of the places in pop culture, but I took them with a grain of salt. Surly most things like that hold some grain of truth, but I was skeptical any but a small fraction actually operated like that. Still….it got me thinking.

I would like to say that my reasoning for my trip there the following week was purely out of rationality. I was really sore and stiff from working out. The parlor was close and probably didn’t charge as much as some of the…..we’ll go with, more established massage businesses in the area. Although, to be truthful with myself, it was mainly out of curiosity. Now, did I go in there expecting anything, not at all. It was surly in the back of my mind, but I thought the stereotype was overblown. There also wasn’t anyway I was going to ask about it. How would one even go about doing something like that? There is also a conception that Asian massages are rougher, which is exactly what I needed for my sore muscles. The expectation was I would get a good massage and at least be able to put some context to the stereotype.

*Disclaimer: When I refer to Asian massage, I simply mean a massage where the techniques are derived from Chinese or Asian culture and not necessarily performed by a person of Asian descent, although that it true a majority of the time.

Back to the story,

I parked my car in one of the two spots they had and gained my composure for a minute. I could feel the butterflies rising in my stomach and felt my heartbeat picking up. I felt as though I was breaking the law or guilty of some misdeed as I did have a girlfriend at the time. I thought for a moment to just leave and get a massage somewhere else, but my damn curiosity wouldn’t let me. I needed to know. So, I entered the dimply lit building.


Complete exaggeration, but might have well been the place with how I felt going in

There was a stairwell that led upstairs and then a door that I presumed was the parlor. I entered the later and was met by a dark room with a counter and couch and several doors jetting out from there. Traditional Chinese decoration covered the walls and music played prominently throughout. I was greeted at the counter by a middle-aged woman with a thick accent.

“Welkom, welkom, do you have an appointment”.

I managed to stammer out a “no”. My eyes were wide with a combination of discomfort and naivety.

She said that was okay and pointed to a chart with different times, prices and what each massage entailed. She started to explain them. I simply choose the half hour option because it was the cheapest. She then led me to a back room that held a massage table and chair with a stereo that played the music. She asked If I ever had a massage before. I hadn’t and she told me to put my clothes there and then get under the sheets. I asked, “all my clothes”? She said yes, then swiftly exited. I could hear her talking to another woman in Chinese.

I started taking off my clothes, throwing them on the chair, but stopped at my boxers. Surly she didn’t mean EVERYTHING, just down to my boxers. Although, I did ask all clothes. Never having a massage before I didn’t know if that was normal. At first it didn’t seem like that would be the case, but you did get under a towel so it wasn’t like you were exposed or anything. I needed to make a decision so I went with the full nude option.

At this point you might be reading and thinking dude, really? Full Nude? You think that was reasonable? To those I say yes, at the time, but thinking about it in hindsight, probably not the norm.

Anywho, I’m settled in and finally breathe a sigh of relaxation just before she returns. I let my head sink into the hole with my body going limp. She enters and immediately begins giggling.

“Oh no silly, too many towels”. She immediately rips them off me! Exposing my naked body on the table.

I shoot up completely nude and for a couple seconds she just stares at me and I back at her. I watch her gaze travel the length of my body as I try to cover up, then she begins laughing again. This time even more.

“It okay, it okay, not all clothes but okay. Here, lie on the table”. I sheepishly jump back on the table and begin to apologize. I was embarrassed to say the least. She took her sweet time placing the smaller towel to cover me then left the room again. I was cursing myself for being so stupid. She left for a moment and outside I could hear her talking and laughing with another employee in Chinese (undoubtedly about me). She returned and started the massage. It started out really nice, with oil and stretching out my limbs and deep tissue massages to my muscles. I was sinking into relaxation and starting to forget about the awkward start.

She asked where I worked and other common conversation mannerisms. The first question she asked though was where I was from. I paused for a moment because I could try to use my origin to explain earlier, implying that it was perhaps different in other cultures. I blurted out Nigeria, the first African country I could think of, and she gave a long, “oohhhh”.

Disclaimer 2: I do not think it is normal cultural practice that Nigerians, or for that fact other African cultures have the practice of getting naked during a massage, but I needed a culture foreign to her and my skin tone funneled me to that answer.

I quickly followed up with, “I moved when I was younger” to account for my lack of accent.

The massage continued without incident until she got on top of the table startling my back and sitting on my butt. I was a little confused because that seemed an outside the bounds of what a normal massage would be and of course in my previse mind ushered in other thoughts of what could be going on.

I wasn’t able to think too much more as a jackhammer plunged into my back. 

My head shot up from the table. I wanted to let out a yell from the pain, but I didn’t want to be rude or seem like a wimp, so I bit my tongue. Another shot came down right on my spine. What the hell was this woman trying to do, paralyze me? I started to think it was punishment for my earlier embarrassment. The pain train went right on trucking as elbows were buried deep into my pressure points. That soon subsided thankfully and I let out a breath. For a few moments I felt relaxed and loose, the beating was a good pain. But no sooner did I relax, then my arm was twisted back. It was pulled into a position I don’t ever think it has gone, nor will again and I kid you not I thought my arm was about to tear or pull out of the socket. She must’ve felt my body convulse because she let up almost immediately. The stretching continued for a little while and then she left the room again. She left the room several times during the massage to talk to what must’ve been another employee because I could hear them. They sounded like they were arguing. I kept thinking it was about me and I hoping it didn’t cut into my half an hour.

She returned and finished the massage with a more relaxing touch, culminating with an abrupt , “all done”. It was a fast half hour and I wanted longer, but It was worth it. She left the room again and I put on my clothes. When I emerged, and approached the front counter she asked how I liked it and I told her very much. It was just what I needed for my sore muscles and it really was. For how unorthodox it seemed, I really felt amazing. While paying she told me next time to come back for an hour and they would do my front. My head shot up from counting my money and she just smiled back. Well hot damn, maybe there was something to these places after all……

Hope you enjoyed and got a laugh steemians. If by some lottery chance this gets 100 upvotes I will share what happened when I returned to this parlor.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly