Alice – Karma

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts about my friend Alice, she’s a deadly IT recruiter. (See: Alice – The Cute Recruiter)  I met her when she placed me in a job a few years ago. She was so good at recruiting that she got tired of not being able to earn more and keep more of her money.

Three years she started her own IT recruiting firm. She finds quality candidates for companies that pay top dollar for these people.

Anyway, Alice rolls into the salon today and asks me to look at something on her phone. It’s a message from some guy on LinkedIn. I don’t know if she was going to be doing recruitment for him or what.

 

What a dick, right? That’s just some old fuck being mean to an attractive young lady for no reason.

So she blurred out the idiot’s name and reposted it with this response on LinkedIn.

 

I believe that’s a fine, mature response to this clown’s statement.

Well, it went viral!

156,152 views.

She’s even been contacted by The Huffington Post.

She was going to come into our new fitness center for some personal training tomorrow, but she had to cancel. Because she’s going to New York City to be interviewed by Entrepreneur magazine!

Well done Alice! I wish you the best of luck and am proud to call you a friend and adore you as a person.

xoxo

 

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My Family – Train Show in York, PA – Thursday – Part 3

It doesn’t matter what we ate or drank, it’s the time spent together and the words exchanged and the feelings felt and the shared experience of this one of a kind journey that will mark me forever.

So here we are on day one of this journey and we haven’t sold anything yet. We know our product is good but we haven’t had any offers yet.  But I’ve noticed that every time I leave the table to go to the bathroom or get something to eat or smoke a cig, a bunch of old dudes swarm our tables.

“Janice, I notice whenever I leave the table, a bunch of old guys come prowling around looking at the trains and chatting with you.”

“So?”

“Well maybe tomorrow we raise the hem on your skirt, or maybe put on a little lipstick, or open another button…”

“Are you pimping me out?”

“Do you want to sell these trains, or have to pack them all up and cart them back to the shore house?”

By this time she is laughing hysterically to the point of crying. I’ve always been able to make my family laugh and today is no different.

I’m learning more about toy trains than I ever knew before. One guy told me that the new toy trains have loads of electronics in them, so they’re nearly impossible to repair if something fails in the unit. In the old days, you could open the toy and repair the mechanics in a simple way.

During the afternoon this black guy stops by and checks out our trains. He’s especially taken by this set of Marx we have. It’s really a cute set of trains. It’s all in the original box. It even has the transformer and track. He tells me about when he was growing up the only toy trains his parents could afford were Marx. The Lionel and American Flyer were too expensive.

Now I get it. That’s why there are hardly any black people here at the this gigantic train show. African-Americans couldn’t afford train sets for their kids because they were too expensive. And when these toys were built black people didn’t have the opportunities they do now. They couldn’t justify spending $50 on a toy for their kid when they could get him five decent toys for them for that price. The Marx train sets were more affordable back then so that’s what they bought.

Interesting.

There are a lot of characters at York. This one particularly notorious one is a guy named Bo. He’s really rich and has tons of trains. He’s got like ten tables here at the show! He plays it like he doesn’t know stuff but he’s super shrewd and can’t be trusted. He comes over and looks at all of our trains and sees what he likes but acts like he’s unwilling to pay that much for any given train set. He’s knows exactly what they’re worth. He’s been in the business of train collecting for decades. My dad didn’t like him and neither does Janice. I think they just didn’t trust the guy. He just seems full of himself. Sort of a blowhard.

He starts telling me how much he liked my father and all to get into my good graces. He starts telling me a story about a friend who in 1975 bought a beautiful lithograph for $700. He later sold it for $2500 a few years later, but I guess missed owning it so he bought it back for $2700. Then Bo buys it from him for $3200 and decides to hold onto it for a while. Then many years later he sells it to some Wall Street broker, for $25,000!

I reckon he’s a guy who when he isn’t talking about himself, and trying to swindle trains away from hapless sellers, he likes to tell stories that involve money.

He continues to tell me he arrived earlier in the week and hung out with some of his friends. He said apparently one of his cronies, a guy that was around 70 had a stent near his heart. Apparently Bo doesn’t know what a stent is because he’s describing it to me and he’s getting it completely wrong.

The guy didn’t tell anybody he had a stent, and he went to dinner with Bo and the boys on Monday and after that the stent collapses and the dude dropped dead. Not really a good opening story when you meet someone for the first time.

Bo goes back to whatever hole he slivered out of, or maybe just back to his 10 tables full of trains. Some other guy (One of the good guys) comes over and puts his arm around Janice and says “Bo won’t try to steal from you, but he can be a ruthless wheeler-dealer. So beware.”

Janice knows Bo is a snake in the grass that will find a way to get what he wants at this show, but we’ll do what we can to fend him off.

Like I said before, there are several other halls on site that are full of dealers and trains, but for some reason they all close at 5pm, but the one we’re in stays open until 6pm. So once 5pm arrives, our hall is flooded with people from the other halls.

We get a sudden flurry of activity and start blowing out sets of trains. The blood scent is in the air, and people are giving us fistfuls of cold hard cash. It’s the strong close we desperately needed at the end of a somewhat abysmal first day out here.

We wrap it all up at 6pm and drive back to the hotel. I notice there’s a hot Puerto Rican girl working the front desk. All of the people who I’ve seen here looks so awful and old and fat, that she is a site for my sore phicklephilly eyes. She’s the first attractive woman I’ve seen all day. (Except for my sister because I know she’s going to read this!)

We check in and I see our hotel has a bar and grill so that’s clutch. We go to our respective rooms and we agree to freshen up and meet in an hour for dinner. Being on my feet and selling has taken a toll on me and I need to just chill for a bit.

My room is beautiful. Cool air conditioning is on and the room is tight. King sized bed, clean bathroom, and flat screen TV. I get a bucket of ice down the hall and fix myself a vodka club. I don’t have cable and don’t watch TV really, so I enjoy watching Nat Geo for an hour while I unwind and sip.

In a while I change and head downstairs to dinner with sis. We hit the hotel dining room. Food was okay. Janice said her asparagus were cold. We had some really great conversations about dad. It was all very heartfelt and I know the only person in the world that could fulfill this mission with me is my closest blood relative sitting across from me. I really admire Jan so much. More than she knows. She’s been through so much pain in this final odyssey, and hopefully this will give us all some more closure in the wake of our father’s death.  As guilty as we both feel selling off his beloved collectibles, we know they were HIS trains. He loved them. We kept what we loved, but there is just so much, it’s just a part of the estate that should be put in the hands of the living who love these trains. So maybe these toys actually get a second life.

It doesn’t matter what we ate or drank, it’s the time spent together and the words exchanged and the feelings felt and the shared experience of this one of a kind journey that will mark me forever.

After dinner we step outside of the hotel lobby and I have a smoke. Some Kenny Rogers type dude is just standing out there playing guitar. Where the hell am I? I miss the city. I can’t be away from Philly for very long. I need to get through this and get back to my city soon.

What was strange, was when we first came out here we noticed that the lobby was full of about 60 Asian people. I have no idea where they came from or why they were all camped out in the lobby. Maybe there was some other convention going on in town, but there was a busload of them in the lobby.

Jan heads up to her room for the night. I tell her I’m going to linger at the snack bar to check it out. I see the latin beauty is still working. She smiles at me and says hello. I need this. I don’t give a shit about the snacks. She’s a snack to me. I interact with lovely women everyday in Philly. In this wasteland of ugly I need a little fix before bed.

I introduce myself and she tells me her name is Angelica. (Of course it is. She’s an angel!) She says she’s only been working at the hotel for four days! I tell her that it was a wonderful hire on the part of the hotel. Angelica is like an ice-cold beer on a hot day in this godforsaken place.

At this point I wish she could give me some room service.

After some small talk with baby, I retire to my room because I’m a gentleman.

Tomorrow is another day of selling!

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

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My Young Life: The Amazing Spider-Man #252

I knew that whenever something major happened in an issue in regard to a very popular character, that book would always become more valuable in the future.

Back in May of 1984 something wonderful happened. Marvel comics introduced the “New” Spider-Man. It was the same Spider-Man as before except they introduced the black costume. The cover was beautiful and harkened back to the cover of Amazing Fantasy #15, which was the first appearance of Spider-Man back in 1962. It was actually released the day after I was born.

I collected comic books my entire childhood into my early twenties. So in 1984 I was twenty-two years old and still into comics. I saw that the black costume was happening and told my dad about it. I knew that whenever something major happened in an issue in regard to a very popular character, that book would always become more valuable in the future. The death of Spider-Man’s girlfriend, Gwen Stacy (Spidey #121–122 June–July 1973) are very valuable books. Google Detective Comics #27 and you’ll really see what I mean.

I run all of this information by my father and being the man he is gets on the case. We also enlist the help of my brother-in-law. As my dad always said: “Anything worth doing is worth overdoing.”

We all go out and find as many copies of that issue as possible. By the end of the month we have collected 200 mint condition copies of the book. The cover price sixty cents. So I have spent $120 on 200 copies of the same comic book. Sounds ridiculous.

I put every one in a plastic comic book bag and place the lot in the bottom drawer of a black filing cabinet I have in my bedroom that houses my comic book collection.

That’s where they remained for three decades.

Thirty years later in 2014, I decided to see what they were worth and began selling off the comics on EBay. Each one sold for between $75 – $120 per book.

In 1984 a twenty-two year old kid invested $120 in 200 copies of the same comic book. In 2014 a fifty-two year old man redeemed that investment to the tune of over $17,000.

There’s comics you buy and save because they bring you great joy, and there those that you know that if you hold on to them long enough, you’ll make a pile of cash on. But which ones do you buy today?

 

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Sun Stories: Summer – 2016 to Present – Night Shift Salon Girl

“How did 4 go from Dirty to Available and none of
us even touched it?”

In the Spring around April/May it’s our busiest time of year at the tanning salon. We absolutely have to have two people working at night. It gets so busy that one person just can’t handle it.

With all of the weddings, proms, graduations, formals, and people taking vacations and getting their “base” on for the summer we get inundated with clients.

So we need to hire somebody to help us out.

Summer, was that hire. I loved little Haley from last year. I’ve written about her. (Haley – 2016 to Present – Lightning in a Bottle) She was great. A fast, efficient worker who could move the clients and stay on top of our other duties.

I wished we could have gotten her back, but she had already secured a part-time job at a restaurant in town.

Summer has been a client of ours for over 2 years. She’s been coming here to tan since she was a freshman at Temple. Achilles suggested that we approach her to work here for the busy season. To me she was just another girl who came in here and did spray and UV tanning, but I suppose Achilles saw something in her.

He finally got a hold of her and got her schedule and it was a match. Monday through Friday, 3pm to 8pm.

You know when you have that co-worker that you really like, and they leave, and then they’re replaced by that new person, that you know will never be as good as your old co-worker?

Well that’s where I was. I’m sure we’ve all been there. But here’s the thing. I love little Haley. She’s great.

But Summer? She turned out to be amazing.

When I started at the salon it took me a week to learn everything. I had to have Achilles stay with me while I worked for days. I was so nervous about what I was doing and it felt like it took me forever to master all of the jobs and tasks of the place. I’m not kidding. I’m a smart guy, but I’m sure Achilles felt like he was dealing with someone who had fetal alcohol syndrome!

Summer? Crushed the whole place in two days.

Originally, Achilles was just going to have her run around and clean beds, but on day one she was learning the system, and every aspect of the job. By the end of the week this brown-eyed blonde was selling lotions and up selling clients to the premium packages.

I was very impressed and so was Achilles. Just a brilliant hire.

Summer told me she never had a job before. She just wanted to show her parents she could earn her own money while in school. She’s a finance major at the university. She also wants to learn Chinese so she can do international finance when she graduates college. Yea, this chick is smart as a whip.

She did such an excellent job we want to get her back again after the summer break is over. When we add the fitness area, we’d also like her to work there as a trainer.

The customers like her. She’s really fast and efficient. She’s got the personality that this place needs, and she loves tanning. She’s comfortable discussing any aspect of UV or spray tanning. She sometimes likes to do the darkest bronzer on herself just to be that dark. And since she goes to Temple, she knows a lot of our clientele already. They’re her classmates.

I came in once on a Friday, and was looking forward to working with her that night. I’m coming out from the back and I see Trish instead of Summer up at the counter.

“Where’s Summer?”

“She took the night off for her birthday.”

I actually started feeling angry that I had to work with Trish instead of Summer. That’s how much I liked working with her. (She just turned 20 and took the night off to celebrate her birthday)

Sounds like the perfect employee right? Comes in early. Stays late. Good attitude. Can stay two steps ahead of what’s going on at the salon. Just a dream employee.

Apparently, she’s also a whiz in school. All A’s and B’s. She has a heavy course load but she works her ass off studying and passing her tests. She’s like the perfect kid.

Or is she?

 

I think I was working with her the first week when she told me this story.

She was out one night in the city with her friends. They all carry fake ID’s these kids now. I don’t mean those shitty laminated fake State ID’s from my generation. The stuff they have now looks like the real deal. The technology is just incredible. They pay around $80 for what looks exactly like a Pennsylvania Driver’s License. It has all of their info on it but the only thing that’s different is their date of birth. By all accounts they are 21 years of age, the legal drinking age in this state.

When I was growing up and down at the shore in New Jersey, the drinking age was 18. I think that’s fair. I really do. They have since raised it to 21, and it’s probably that number everywhere now.

What I don’t understand about this law is, you can vote, buy a gun, work in porn, and serve in our country’s military all at the age of 18. But you can’t buy a beer.

It’s bullshit!

Anyway, All of these kids have these high-tech, fake ID’s now that really look exactly like the real deal and they are all getting into bars and nightclubs to party out. I’ve seen these fake IDs. Haley had one and showed it to me last year. Looked like it had been issues by the DMV. Really good.

So Summer tells me that she and her friend were out the other night bar hopping and just doing what college girls do. After awhile they end up down at Sugarhouse Casino. Summer walks in and of course she gets carded. The security guy looks at her ID and looks at her.

“Is this ID real?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“One moment.”

He goes in the back and what we’re assuming at this point he is running it through some sort of scanner.

He comes back out flanked by two security guards and the police. They tell her the ID is a fake and that she’s under arrest.

“What?”

Now normally if kids get caught trying to use a fake ID at a bar or nightclub and they’re discovered, they are turned away and/or the ID is confiscated. But this is a casino. A state regulated organization.

Attempting entrance to a casino with a fake ID is a felony that can carry with it a large fine and jail time.

Yea. This honor student could go in the can and end up with a felonious criminal record that would ruin her chances of ever having a career in the financial industry.

That is some serious shit.

I can’t believe she’s told me this terrible tale. I feel so bad for her because I really like Summer.

So she lawyers up. I tell her to wear something nice and demure to court, and act really, really sorry for what she did. Show real remorse. (Or at least put on her best performance of pretending she’s sorry) She thinks the charges are crazy and is still acting repugnant about the whole thing but agrees with me.

Her court appearance comes up and I tell her to text me when they reach a verdict.

I’m worrying about her all day. I’m praying that they won’t throw the book at her. She’s a young girl with no priors. Not even a parking ticket. She’s a straight A student, and she didn’t even get in and buy a drink or drop a single quarter in a slot machine. She simply attempted to enter the wrong place with a fake ID. I know it’s wrong and so does she, but we’ve all done it.

The text finally comes after 2pm that afternoon.

“You were right! $200 fine and a class. No felony. No jail time!”

What a fucking relief. I’m so happy for her. I hope my favorite employee and “little outlaw” has learned her lesson. I’ll write more as things happen in her life.

 

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Dating and Relationship Advice – Here Are Some Great Reasons to Go on That Second Date! — Dear Sybersue: Dating Relationship Talk Show and Blog

 

Are you too picky that you sabotage your dating life?

via Here Are Some Great Reasons to Go on That Second Date! — Dear Sybersue: Dating Relationship Talk Show and Blog

Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

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Dina – 2011 to Present – In The Vault

“These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.”

I crush it at the salon on a Saturday because I’ll be gone for 3 days. Dina, my friend and broker and I meet up at 1518 Bar & Grille. She’s 4’11” and adorable. She also has the metabolism of a bee. She loves Smores, fried chicken, Oreos, and ice cream.

Dina orders a lemon martini. I’m on my 2nd straight up with a twist and Asha the bartender hooks me up with house but it’s Ketel One.

She looks hot.  Boots, dark jeans, and custom leather jacket. Cute as hell. Dark curls tumble about her shoulders and of course that hot pouty mouth of hers.

I introduce her to  her to Prova the bartender. (See: Prova – 2015 to Present – Glow of the Sun) She looks amazing as always. Those dimples!

These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.

Dina is amazing. She’s such a no bullshit girl who is so sure about herself. I love her plus she looks 18. I always knew she was too good for any life or job i saw her in. I’m also happy her husband is such a chill solid pup he doesn’t mind his hot wife hanging out with the Dark Lord and having drinks.

We need to get out of here. These Indian guys suck. So loud and annoying. I can’t think straight.

We close out and I let the staff know that there’s no hard feelings but that’s why we’re leaving. We need to talk and I need to hear her. I miss my friend.

We never go out on Saturday night. It’s all young drunk people around city. The women are extraordinary though.

We decide to check out Square 1682 but the staff sucks and we head to Sofitel. Liam is on and so is the waitress who likes to go topless when she gets drunk. Let’s just call her Tulip. I usually do a rock trivia thing with Liam but tonight I have a different one.

“You wake up and look out your front door and see the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. Later that day, you walk out your back door and watch the sun set in the Pacific Ocean. Where is your house?”

Tulip looks great and I intro Dina to the crew. The bar is full so we sit and a quiet table in the lounge, which is glorious. Tulip brings a snack tray for Dina because as we all know, she loves to eat.

Dina’s happy and we order wine. She’s hungry, so more food is on the way. I got the drinks at 1518 but I know she’ll cover everything from here which is clutch.

We catch up on my life. Daughter Lorelei, the fitness center I should be opening in Rittenhouse in the next 60 days, and what’s happening with this blog, the book, and TV series we’re developing about it. Dina and her husband just settled on a house in Rittenhouse so I love that they’ll be in the neighborhood with us.

Liam is texting me solutions to my puzzle and they’re all wrong.

She says she has a strange story about a former colleague of mine. This person has since cut me off a couple of years ago for no apparent reason, but he likes to keep weak inferiors around him, and I hate his friends and wife anyway so its no loss to me. We could have been mighty but he never did what he was supposed to do with the business so now it’s just a trust fund baby’s way to play work. I loved the guy, but he has to make the juvenile choices he needs to make.

She tells me about this dinner she had with this other dude, I used to know that always had a thing for her. He’s harmless. We all still think he’s a virgin, so there’s that. He’s a really smart guy that is always super excited about everything that is before him, and it comes off as childish. I like the guy, but to me he’s just a bore.

If he would just get laid he’d probably chill out and get a different perspective on everything. I hate to say that, but that would probably fix his ass.

She goes to this dinner with this guy, as a friend or a wing woman or whatever with my former colleague and his horrible wife. I remember Everybody hated this guy’s wife years ago. She’s awful. She’s kind of hot. But only in the sense that if I were marooned on a desert island with her I would bang her for a few months but it would only be a matter of time before I became so annoyed with her that I would eventually kill her and eat her to survive just to not have to listen to her endless bullshit.

So they have their awkward dinner, little virgin guy gets an UBER with Dina back to Rittehouse. He gets in the car with her and says:

“So they are separated. She wanted it.”

I know this guy has a pre-nup so he’s well protected in regard to his daddy’s loot.

“Really?”

She thinks the wife is awful just like the rest of us.

“Yea, he went to an event and told her he could only get one ticket because they were really expensive, but he went with is new editor.”

“Oh wow. That’s a shame.”

“Yea, and his wife is living at the house, (because she doesn’t earn shit) and he said he’s living at a hotel but he’s really living with new editor girlfriend at an apartment somewhere.”

I am not shocked about this news because I knew he was miserable with that harpy years ago. She cheated on him in college and is crazy. She has destroyed property at the house, assaulted people at concerts, fights with him all the time, withholds sex all the time, has flushed his weed, and cigars, and is just an all around child who behaves as if she has fetal alcohol syndrome. Thank God she never wanted kids, because he dodged a huge child support bullet and should just cut that beast loose.

But he’s cut me off and I take that as a smite to me. I loved the guy and we were tight. I don’t know hat’s happened to him, but I’m sure he’s in a world of pain right now. I hope he gets through it okay, but I’m German and so is he, and if you read this dude, then schadenfreude is a bitch baby.

Karma can be a real fucker. You reap what you sow. You make bad life choices and that shit comes back on you like a hurricane. I just hope he can cash her out and flush her from his life and hopefully move on with the new mistress he’s fucking.

Dina and I eat and drink like Gods at Sofitel and I’m happy just to have her in my presence and hear her voice. I adore her. She’s so sound as a woman. I wish I could replicate her into five more to hang out with. Maybe a lawyer, and accountant Dina would be a start.

I go out for a smoke and she pays the bill. (Love her!) We both trust each other implicitly with all of our honesty and the relationship is wonderful. She takes care of my money and knows how to keep her mouth shut. Obviously we discuss everything that’s going on in our lives and it’s so intimate that I can’t talk about it here but maybe someday if this becomes a TV show our characters can talk about children, and marriage, but I can’t divulge our secrets here. Don’t worry’s it’s not that exciting, but this is a dating blog and not a forum for right and wrong.

We decide to head out and Dina needs Ben & Jerry’s. Of course I stand and put her leather jacket on her slight frame. You have to be a gentleman 100% of the time with everyone, guys.

We step out into the night. It’s stopped raining and the street is wet and the air is cool.

Happily there’s a store half way down the block from the hotel bar and it’s still open. I’m a wine, cocktail and carb guy. I’m just not really into sweets or dairy anymore. It doesn’t agree with my physiology. Middle age. But she’s 28 and looks 18 and loves sweets. She says we MUST stop there. I’ve walked by the place a hundred times and have had no desire to ever climb the steps and go in. (Even on National Ice Cream Day, where they give away free cones all day!)

We go in and this is alien to me. I never go into ice cream parlors. It’s clean and bright. I like it but prefer a dark bar.

The kid with the hat and dreds and tie-dye shirt is sweet and articulate. He knows his products. I always admire that. Dina knows this place so well that if she asks for endless samples of every crazy flavor combination they will let her put them in her mouth endlessly. I have this arrangement with Prova but she does it for me with craft beers so I get it. The ice cream flavors seem delicious, and she devours a few samples lovingly.  She encourages me to partake in the samples but I know what rich dairy will do to my colon so I only do one. It is some sort of chocolate, vanilla, cookies and nuts and crushed cone concoction. It is exquisite in my mouth.

I get it. But there are things in my life now that are far sweeter than any frozen treat can match.

Dina decides on some lethal combo and they put it all on a sugar cone. This is actually a really sweet moment in my mind. I adore Dina. I trust her with my money and my secrets. She’s one of my favorite people in my life.

I’m not getting an ice cream cone but this reminds me of some of the sweet romantic moments of my young life. Getting an ice cream cone with a young pretty girl on a Saturday night. She manages my financial portfolio and is a trusted friend but in this moment I am just happy to walk her home.

She’s loving her ice cream cone as we stroll through Rittenhouse with me walking on the inside so she doesn’t get splashed by a passing car.

I love this.

I like walking her home to her stoop and giving her a hug goodnight. We promise to keep in touch and have a lunch in our future. She unlocks her door and goes back to her husband and her little dog Lily.

I light a cig and walk home. The streets are wet and slick. They reflect the lights and sounds of the city. I’m happy after a long day at the salon, and a sweet night with a feiend.

I look forward to tomorrow.

 

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