What You’re Taught vs. What You Want

I have worked in financial services for 20 years and advertising for 10. I’ve been very successful due to my skill in sales. But I’m done with the rat race and corporate America. It’s all a big lie.

We all do it to buy houses and get wives and kids and the American dream and it’s all a fat lie. But everybody’s buying it and they can’t invest fast enough or stay in it as long as they can as debtors because that’s what they’ve been sold and taught, and it’s all a lie.

You’re father told you to never to be a liar but that’s what you’re all living.

Imagine how you’re spending your life. In your apartment, Watching football with your bro’s or reading your comic books or whatever, and a lovely lady would come over maybe once a week and fuck you and love you. You are her one and only, and then when you’re done with dinner and sex and whatever else, she goes away until you summon her again for the same loving experience?

Perfect right?

You can’t. That’s for young men. You must marry, and get a house. mortgage and have kids. That’s what you’ve been sold so hard that you have lost yourself. You don’t know what you want anymore because your afraid your dream will fade. Your stupid legacy. Your shitty bloodline will end because of some shit your parents told you.

Lies.

All men want a lovely girl to make love to and have a cool life with,  but think about it…it’s bullshit.

The marriage is a fortune. We hate that we have to spend two months salary on a ring. What huge diamond conglomerate set that number? Everything in this country is about making money.

It’s sad.

Hey, spend a thousand dollars on a dress that you’re only going to wear once! It’s a giant party that costs a fortune. All the planning and everything. It’s awful. I’ve done it and will never do it again. She twirls around in a white dress for one night in front of her family and friends, and the guy is not allowed to ever have sex with anyone else again.

I think it would be better if you just get married at the court-house, if you absolutely feel that you need to be legally bound to another person. It would be nice if everybody would just send money and that would be it.

Most people just settle anyway. They’ve run out of options or are simply tired of looking. Most women start panicking around 27 years of age and start getting serious about finding some shlub to help them pay down their revolving debt they cranked up in their 20’s buying handbags, booze, shoes, and vacations.  They get a roof over their head and then start cranking out babies.

That’s it. Replicated a million times all over the world.

Thousands of dollars for the mortgage, the cars, and the kids!

Kids are an absolute fortune. Let’s have children so we will both have to work very hard for a very long time. What’s the point? There’s too many people in the world already. Then you have to get a bigger house in the suburbs where they have better schools.

They will push and struggle to make a bunch of money for a lifestyle that is absolute bullshit. It’s boring! What guy would want to work that hard and that long? Deal with a wife and kids everyday? It’s really not something I think most men realize they are getting into.

It’s almost never the guy’s idea to get married. The first set up is usually the best. You have your place, she has hers, sometimes you’re together and sometimes you’re alone. Perfect set up. That’s the set up I currently enjoy.

But what happens? Biological clock starts ticking.

“What are we doing? Where is this going?”

When you start to hear that shit, either run, or just surrender fellas.

Game over.

But it’s not all women’s fault. Some guys are just too insecure to be alone. They want that one chick that they can have sex with because they’re either not good at hunting, or have simply lost the will, or don’t have the fatal charm to go out and date.

I bet if you did a survey, and you could get the men to be honest, most would agree they would like to sit on the porch or go to a game, drink beer with their bro’s and get the occasional sex that’s consistent, and then just be left alone.

How cool would it be if Cinderella turned into a pizza and a six pack at midnight after she fucked your brains out for two hours and got off the property?

It’s sad. I hate seeing a bunch of broken down losers working their fucking asses off and getting pulled into jobs that mean nothing so they can support their lifestyles they built and they never really wanted any of that.

It’s all a lie.

We all want a simple uncluttered life, and we all end up miserable debtors.

Most people don’t have the courage to be alone.

To be in a room by yourself and take a deep breath and say:

Maybe marriage isn’t for me.

Somebody has to say this stuff, so it might as well be me.

Have a great week!

 

 

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Duncan – Touchdown – Part 1

“Whenever his plane lands he always texts me the signal: “Touchdown.” I know he’s landed in Philly and the fun is about to begin. But in that moment I didn’t realize how his phrase would ring true this fateful weekend.”

Duncan had planned on coming into town to visit me. It had been a while since we’d hung out. But this was a very special weekend. He was turning 50 and the Philadelphia Eagles were playing in the Super Bowl.

Whenever his plane lands he always texts me the signal: “Touchdown.” I know he’s landed in Philly and the fun is about to begin. But in that moment I didn’t realize how his phrase would ring true this fateful weekend.

My schedule has changed since he last was up here in Philly. I work every day and only get every other Saturday off. I don’t mind because I love to work and stay busy. We’ve got two businesses to run and this blog’s not going to write itself.

While I was walking into work today, I realized that even though we don’t see each other very often, Duncan is my very best friend. We’ve known each other for 20 years.

He later rolls into the salon on Friday afternoon. It’s great to see him. He walks up to me and practically jumps into my arms.

I give him the tour of the gym and salon. It’s been over a year since he’s seen it. The last time he was here the space was an empty husk of a fallen restaurant. Now it’s a busy tanning salon with a personal training fitness center up front. We’ve come a long way since then. He’s impressed.

We takes a seat in the waiting area and we chit-chat. This time together gives us a chance to catch up on what’s happening in each other’s lives. It’s been slow at the salon so we can talk. Duncan also likes all of the young attractive women that come in to tan. It’s like an endless pageant of beauty.

I get a couple of cheese steaks and sodas delivered and we happily munch them, while bringing each other up to date. We discuss current events, business, work, the women in our lives, and most of all Super Bowl LII.

When I finish we decide to go to Duncan’s favorite bar at the Ritz Carlton. He stayed there last year and we loved it. I got him a more modern and less expensive room at the Hotel Palomar at 17th and Sansom. But there’s no bar that looks like what’s at the Ritz Carlton. It’s a vast space with high ceilings surrounded by pillars. It’s like you’re having a drink at a beautiful white marble bar in ancient Rome. (But with all the modern amenities) If you ever get to Philly, check it out.

We park it at the bar and Duncan goes for his favorite: Rum, Bailey’s and Cream. It’s like a White Russian but more like a milkshake for adults. I like my drinks with a touch of evil so I go for the Manhattan, Bulliet Rye, Sweet Vermouth and brandied cherries. A lethal and elegant classic cocktail.

We get into it. We’ve been friends for 20 years. We know basically everything about each other. But there’s always new material. Stuff you know, but we go for the deeper dive. We both have issues with our parents. Who doesn’t our age? Especially boys.

We agree that the only way we could have moved forward in our lives was to forgive them and embrace all of the great things they did. Not dwell on the horrific things they did to us growing up.

We used to just listen to heavy metal and go to concerts and eat and party in the old days.

We relive those days of simple joy. Building our time together around concerts, meals, drinks, drugs and fun. But now we’re both men in middle age that have held our friendship through truth and our common interests. But mostly growing up in the same era and loving all of the same things.

The pain we suffered growing up has always been there, but tonight in middle age we let loose and agree to forgive. My gentle friend’s childhood was way worse than mine. Our parents were so good to us and they did the best they could, but why the violence against us?

Nothing good came from any of that. It was all just an emotional and physical release for them to escape from their own pain and frustration. None of our sisters knew this, but the sons did. The humiliation. The beatings. It was awful.

How could you do that to a child. By today’s standards, it is a 911 call.

I know my best friend’s life was worse than mine. There is always someone who’s had it worse than you.

I Love Duncan and treasure him as my distant best friend. We are always connected even though there are miles between us.

Our cylinders run an engine of friendship that transcends time and space. Business, values, marriage, relationships, philosophy, politics. comedy, film, Star Wars, comics, music. Everything. I just adore him.

20 years. You can’t build that without your ups and downs but there’s love there. It’s something we both have wanted our entire lives. I met my very best friend 20 years ago through the banking industry.

You never know when you’re going to meet a best friend. Sometimes you don’t even know who they are when you have them. But you open your eyes one day in this fleeting life and there they are 20 years later and you are just as you were when you first started.

You love all of the same stuff. There’s a little bit of new stuff, but the vein runs through it and it is pure. That’s your guy. He gets you. He knows your secrets and all of your fuck ups and weaknesses and he hangs in there anyway.

You can tell him anything and he won’t ever judge you. That’s a friend. He has all of his shit, and you have yours. You have both taught each other to forgive those that have hurt you. They only were doing the best they could with what they had.

They’re lives were so much harder than ours. Their parents came from a harder place and were even more ignorant than we are. But we’re the next generation and we love them. They did so many great things and that outweighs most of the awful mistakes that they made with us.

 

I’m plowing Manhattan’s and Duncan is destroying his White Russians like he’s John Bonham. Then for the first time in our 20 year relationship we finally dig into the darkness.

The agonizing pain of our childhoods and how ignorant our parents were. I describe what happened to me and with Duncan I feel safe in telling him what my childhood was like.

Then he describes incidents from his childhood and I am horrified and tears come to my eyes because I can’t imagine that happening to my friend.

It’s way worse than any of my punishments and almost seem like a call to child services would have been in order back then.

But as awful as it all is as we laugh and throw our cocktails back we discuss forgiveness and understanding. We both realize where our parents were in their lives back then. Where they came from and how far they came with all of us kids.

It was a different time back then and they didn’t know any better. They really did a lot of great things. Fantastic things for us kids, but there were moments where they made missteps that marked us forever.

They could never have foreseen the long-term effect on how what they gave us would propel us into greatness, but in that same moment, provide a weight, a nearly disabling weight that could destroy us in the same moment.

Some of their children would prevail and soar high and clean. Others would crawl from the wreckage of their upbringing broken and fragile, but would still find their way.

Maybe these birds cast from the nest would find their way and eventually fly back to the nest and rescue their own parents from their on demise.

Simply as an act of kindness.

Because they had become good people.

They were able to take the best of what they learned from their parents, and forgive the worst. Learn from it and be the best people they could be.

That’s my Duncan.

It’s late and we’re elated but wiped out. The bill comes and it’s $200. My God.

Duncan pays it.

I feel a twinge of regret but he insists. The weekend is only getting started and I’m stupid happy to see him.

I love Duncan. Our history is so rich, we could write a phicklphilly book just about our stories. (I probably will)

Our friendship has aged beautifully. Middle age hasn’t been kind to any of us, but we’re still tight as super glue. Our friendship has transcended time and space. We still love and hate all of the same stuff together. Now we’re in our fifties and I would love nothing more than to sit beside my dear friend watching whatever new Star Wars incarnation Disney can create and be happy.

We just want to share a moment, a drink, and a laugh.

We’ll do more than that this weekend, but for now… I’m just happy to have him in my life after all of this time.

 

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How People Change Their Love Lives According to Money

How People Change Their Love Lives According to Money

The relationship between love and money, which has always been rocky, may have suffered another blow in early 2018, when British psychologists proved they could change the way people felt about dating by directing their attention to shiny wealth-related objects. Single people, upon being prompted to think about luxury items, expressed a preference for more short-term flings than they had beforehand.

Researchers at Swansea University showed 75 men and 75 women pictures of 50 potential love-interests and asked them if they would be interested in a long, short or non-existent relationship with that person. They then showed some of the participants photos of fancy cars, high-end jewelry, big houses or actual cash. After the viewers had seen those images, they were shown the photos of the opposite sex again and compared to the group that were not shown any luxury photos, they chose 16% more short-term partners.

Contrary to stereotype — and the researchers’ expectations — there was no discernible difference between the genders. Moreover, lest we start to feel bad about the human species’ gold-digging tendencies, most participants were not switching prospective long-term partners to short-term because of money. The study group just opted for a more fling-heavy mix. They were also shown images of dangerous animals and videos of children. After seeing those, both men and women chose a higher rate of long-term partners, but some women showed a greater preference for short-term partners as well.

The psychologists did not actually set out to prove anything about the effect of money (or danger or kids) on love. Instead, they were trying to ascertain whether human mating preferences switch in real-time according to the environment. “Our main aim with the paper was to try to demonstrate the existence of a ‘mating calibration’ mechanism,” says Andrew G. Thomas, a psychology lecturer at Swansea University and the lead author of the study.

The theory is that what he calls “a psychological organ” (which is like a regular organ except it exists in the brain) evolved over time to assess the environment and adjust mating preferences accordingly. In other words, humans have developed a flexible mating strategy; we are neither wholly monogamists nor inveterate players. Each person’s approach can change according to circumstances. This study demonstrated this change in behavior, its authors say, within an experimental setting for the first time.

“Short- and long-term mating preferences are sometimes presented as opposites, like two sides of the same coin: If you have a preference for one, then you don’t for the other,” says Thomas. “However, what we believe is that humans evolved the capacity to pursue both types of mating conditionally. People have separate degrees of preference for both short-term and long-term relationships, and which one is ultimately pursued depends on their relative strengths. So individuals may find themselves in a committed relationship because their preference for long-term mating overshadows their preference for casual mating — though a preference for the latter may still be there, lurking in the background.”

Why does wealth change partnering preferences, then? It’s all about offspring. When people are in an environment of plenty, the theory holds, they are more inclined to short-term mating relationships because they can imagine raising young on their own. “For example, in environments which have lots of resources, it would have been easier for ancestral mothers to raise children without the fathers’ help,” writes Thomas. “This made short-term mating a viable option for both sexes during times of resource abundance.” In more straitened eras, men and women need each other to stick around and contribute.

However, there are other theories for why humans change their romantic behavior around money. A 2014 study out of Singapore found that those with materialistic values had a more negative attitude towards marriage and children generally. And an earlier British study suggested that women exposed to photos of fast cars become more impulsive.

If humans can change mating preferences that quickly, there are new questions. Do we have to worry that a partner who watches a lot of Keeping up With the Kardashians might change his or her level of commitment? And how do we set up a dating profile that encourages the right kind of mate? “It’s unlikely that showing your partner pictures of jewelry and fast cars will cause them to become promiscuous,” says Thomas. “If our mate preferences were that fragile, then enduring relationships wouldn’t exist. However, if someone were to be exposed to strong and persistent signals that their environment had changed in some way (following a job promotion, or during an economic recession for example), then this might cause them to change the type of relationship they want.”

So those who just want to have fun should continue to pose beside Ferraris wielding bottles of Dom Perignon in their dating-app photos. And those who are looking for something more serious might want to wrangle a shot with a friend’s baby or a tiger. Probably not both at once, however.

 

Was this helpful? I’d love to hear your feedback on this subject!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Miscellaneous Stories: Real Life Sugar Babies Describe What It’s Like To Have A Sugar Daddy – Part 2

Sugaring Can Be A Win-Win

From handshoes101:

“Former sugar baby here!

It’s something I did for a few months, and it was a great way to help me out of a difficult financial situation.

To start off, before any sugar relationship starts, there is usually a platonic meet and greet over coffee/dinner/drinks so both parties can see if they actually like each other. Out of every 3 meet and greets I went to I probably only saw 1 again. There’s no sex and usually no money is exchanged (although I have been given money at meet and greets a few times). Sometimes you will also discuss allowance at the meet and greet, but you can also do this before or after.

Allowance is always agreed upon before any actual dates, and it can either be a monthly or weekly amount, or pay per meet (PPM). I used to always do PPM.

Once that’s all established, you start having dates with your sugar daddy. These can be anything from hotel meetups for just sex, to going to an art show, dinner, and drinks, before heading back to his place for sex. It’s never said out loud but sex is absolutely expected.

In my experience, most guys who are sugar daddies are very busy business men who don’t have the time or energy to sustain a real relationship. The money ensures that everything will go smoothly, and they still get a genuine (or what I make seem to be genuine) emotional, fun, and intimate experience.

I enjoyed sugaring when I did it, because it was a good way for me to make money, while still being in control of who I spent time with.

My regular rate was 500€ per date. For one sugar daddy that I really liked, I went down to 350€ because he wasn’t super rich, and that’s a more average number for my location (Berlin, Germany). I know that in some places in America the average per date can be as low as $200 or as high as $600. But even the local average isn’t the best guide for choosing a number, because it depends on what you value yourself at, what you’re comfortable with, what the daddy values you at, and what he can afford.

Also, monthly allowances are quite common, but I don’t have any personal experience with those. They depend on the same factors though, along with how many times you meet per month.”

Some Sugar Babies Get All The Perks

From misscolinsxx:

“It’s been on and off for me, my family is well off financially however I’m not the kind of person that would expect my mum to cater to my every whim and need so that’s why I decided to get a sugar daddy.

So the process or usually goes something like this, you go for lunch/dinner/drinks for a meet and greet and if you choose to continue then an arrangement will be discussed e.g meet me 5 times a month and I will pay you $500 per week, $10,000 monthly or $1000 PPM (pay per meet).

From then on your dates can range from holidays to going to a work function or simply going to the cinemas and dinner afterwards, essentially you’re an on call girlfriend/boyfriend.

My arrangement was that I meet him a few times a month in exchange for 5000€ (per month) which equates to just under $8000(he lived in Paris and I live in NZ) and I would get all the lovely perks such as shopping sprees at designer stores, cosmetic work, his black Amex card just whatever I wanted (within reason of course).”

Warm And Fuzzy On The Outside, Cold And Calculating On The Inside

From AmethystRose:

“I used to sugar, and escort – I’m taking a break from both because of mental health reasons.

Honestly, I’d prefer not to go into my stories too much. I’ve been in two long-term sugar arrangements – One at 16, one at 17. 700/800 per week + gifts, respectively, for roughly one date and one round of sex and post-sex cuddling. It wasn’t negotiated that way, it’s just what ended up happening. I did negotiate the money, though – silly little me actually negotiated down from 1.2k/1k respectively, because I thought too much cash lying around would tip off my parents. I was such a stupid f*cking child, ugh. Granted, I shouldn’t have been sugaring anyway, but you know.

Being a sugar baby is not work for just anyone. If you want to succeed in it, as an actual business venture, you need to be very cold, brutal, and detached from both men and sex (or at least, sex with those particular men). It’s inherently a very unbalanced dynamic – he’s wealthy and has a lot more life experience than his college-aged (or potentially younger) sugar baby. It isn’t uncommon for these men to try twist that to their advantage.

Honestly, sugaring isn’t worth the hassle unless a) you want professional connections and are smart and charismatic enough to make them through dating your SD or b) you cannot handle escorting.”

It’s Not For Everyone

From imhereforthemeta:

“I did it once… by that I mean one attempt/date. I was going on a lot of dates so I could experience the far away city I moved to and I decided YOLO and responded to a sort of skeezy ad I found locally. TBH I had just left my boyfriend of about 7 years after some really f*cked up stuff happened and I was pretty numb.

I had the guy pick me up under a false name at an apartment that wasn’t mine. He was about 55 years old and we got together on the precedent of a ‘sugar baby’ relationship sort of ‘trial run/first date’… He took me to a really fancy Italian place. I admit, I was super fascinated with what made the guy work… like why are you trying to pick up chicks… over half your age?

Turns out there was nothing interesting about him, and promises to pay my bills and buy me things were very unappealing when he started opening his mouth. He was married and a total pig about his wife, who he basically described as a god damn saint but who was too old/ugly for him now so he f*cks younger girls instead. He kept commenting about how I was the same age/etc as his daughters (whom he was very proud of, ick) I was very uncomfortable at this point but had no car, so I just kept agreeing with him and buttering him up. I then decided to proceed to order the most expensive things I could off of the menu and chowed down.

He dropped me off at that apartment a few miles from my house and we parted ways. He tried to kiss me. It was gross.

I don’t think I would have taken him up on the full baby offer regardless of his personality because the idea of that kind of dependency makes me anxious, but yeah.”

Beware Of Salt Daddies

From Dahliayy:

“I’ve met 3 salt daddies. These two kept on talking about sex before I even met. They asked for nudes and even tried sexting with me. Every time we tried to meet they would cancel last minute, give some stupid excuse and then try to lure me to their house or whatever hotel they booked. One met up with me and then left me with the lunch bill…

One time me and a POT [potential sugar daddy] agreed to meet up for lunch just to know each other. After we both ordered he suddenly started asking if I’m interested on going to a hotel with him after lunch (which ofc I said no). We tried to talk over lunch but GOD HE WAS SUCH AN ASS. I hated all of his views but idk why he was so smitten with me. Dude kept on touching me and I just tried to avoid and eat my lunch as fast as possible.

I clearly didn’t like this guy so after we were done with lunch, I just said that we’re not getting along well and I wasn’t interested with having an arrangement with him. He didn’t take it very well so he just straight up walked out of the restaurant and left me with the bill. I didn’t have enough money but I was so lucky to have my friends around to pay the bill for me.”

 

Check out the conclusion tomorrow!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Dina – 2011 to Present – Aggressive Diversity

I have been working a ton of hours lately. Work at the day gig, at night at the salon because we burned through some employees lately. I knew Summer was coming back soon but didn’t realize that her return was almost two months away. (See: Summer – 2017 to Present – Night Shift Girl and Outlaw) So rather than try to find someone, hire them, get them trained, figure out if the schedule works for them, I figured I’d just take all the night and weekend shifts and Achilles would hold down the fort during the day. Subsequently, I had no life for the last two months. I mean, I squeezed in a couple of lunches with friends and maybe two nights out with my buddy Church.

Just non stop work. But I like to work and be busy. It keeps me out of trouble, and once I do get a day off I’ll truly appreciate it.

Well that day has arrived and it is glorious. I go to the bank and get a check to give to my  friend and broker, Dina. (See: Dina – 2011 to Present – Lil’ JAP)  I then head over to one of my favorite lunch spots, Cavanaugh’s Rittenhouse. My favorite bartender doesn’t work on the day I go in anymore. I miss her. (See: Ann Marie – 2016 to Present – Rose Among Thorns) But the girl who took her place is really good. She’s a little blonde named Kelli.

I get there and go to the table where I always sit in the back. Normally it’s quiet in there when I go and gets even quieter as the afternoon rolls on. But right now there’s a ten top sitting right near me and apparently these people work for the Yelling and Loud Laughing Corporation. It’s a little annoying, but I’m sure they’ll quiet down when their chow comes out.

I order my usual from Kelli. Cheesesteak, American, no onions, fries, no pickle, a diet coke when my food comes out. Just water for now. That’s my move!

This is my first day off in 53 days! So happy. I get my food and it’s perfect. Kelli doesn’t forget my diet coke as the sandwich arrives. On point. Ann Marie never did that. She always just came to my table with the soda and the water at the beginning. I like it this way better.

The big table leaves after a while and the bar is nice and quiet again. Bliss. I have my laptop and crack off a few new blog posts from my past. I’m having a lovely day so far. Kelli checks on me a few times. I like the attention I’m getting. Not as flirty as Ann Marie but better service.

I tell Kelli that when Ann Marie was here, around 3pm she’d make me some spirit forward cocktail. I don’t know what it was, but she cobbled together some sort of Old Fashioned. Kelli asks me what was in it and I tell her. She says it sounds more like a Manhattan. I tell her when she gets a chance sometime after 3pm I’d like to have that with a side of ice.

I continue typing away. Some time goes by and I glance at the clock on my laptop. 3:01. Kelli appears. “Are you ready for that drink now?”

Right on time. Within a few minutes she delivers what appears to be a perfect Manhattan, neat, in a martini glass, maraschino cherry, and a side of ice. Looks good to me.

I’m typing away and it takes me the full hour to drink it. I go out for a cigarette and when I come back, Kelli returns and asks me if I want anything else. I tell her that the drink was great and I would love another. The creative juices are flowing and the keyboard is smoking.

The second drink arrives and I know this one won’t last as long as the first one. It never does. More typing, more sipping and this guy is done in 45 minutes. God, it feels so good to finally have a day off. I’m not meeting Dina until 7pm. I’ll hang here until 5:30 and then head over to Square 1682 to see my favorite bartender, Roman. (See: Roman – 2012 to Present – Rock n’ Roll Bartender)

Feels like two months ago before all of these crazy hours happened. I tell Kelli I’m going to close out. I look at my bill. She gave me industry discount on both cocktails! Those drinks were made with Bulliet Bourbon. That’s a great brand! Kelli only charged me $5 per drink! They were first-rate, and Ann Marie never did that for me.

I tip her up to what all of this would have really cost and pay cash. Cash is king in this industry. She’s pleased and I’m overjoyed. Kelli’s my new #1 day off “It” girl! Sorry Ann Marie!

I head over to Square and set up my laptop and phone at the bar. They have receptacles to plug-in so I can power up my devices and still type and text while waiting for Dina to arrive.

Roman already has a glass of chardonnay with a side of ice at the ready before I even sit down. Come for the booze, stay for the hospitality. Roman is happy that the vacation season is over and the patrons are back at his bar. I’m chatting with him because I haven’t seen him in almost two months. Just our usual small talk, life, work, family, etc.

A while passes and I’m feeling happy. Dina arrives and we decide to get away from the bar and take a little table to chat. Little Dina looks adorable, or as she would say, “Adorbs.” Even though she’s only 4’11” she has the metabolism of a bee. So of course she’s starving. We order another round of wine, and she gets a bowl of mac n’ cheese. I will say this, the food at Square 1682 is good. But Misconduct makes better mac n’ cheese, as does Jones down at 5th and Chestnut. But Dina stuffs it in her little maw like it’s her last meal.

After about an hour of laughs and crazy stories I hand her the envelope from my bank. But before I do I say these words: “Aggressive Diversity.” She gets it and stuffs it in her purse. The bill comes and she grabs it and pays with her corporate card. This really has been a wonderful day, but it’s not over yet.

We stop over the salon, because it’s Summer’s first night back closing up the place. Dina gets to meet her, and check out the new fitness center. We get the place locked down without incident. But there’s one more critical stop we have to make. We walk up to Chestnut street. She says she’s picking up dinner for she and her husband. I go into the restaurant with her. I don’t know what she’s ordering I’m just people watching and chilling. After a few minutes they hand her this giant bag filled with boxes. Yea, we’re at Popeye’s Chicken! It’s a decadent secret of lil’ Dina’s. Girl loves her some fried chicken!

Apparently they look like they ordered one of everything, plus fries, biscuits…the works! How are they going to eat all of this food!? They’re just two people. Dina calls and Uber and I get a ride home with her. What a great day.  I love my broker/friend!

 

 

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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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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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