Kita – Chapter 38 – Second Date – Xmas – Part 2

Somehow the subject of sugar babies comes up. I may have been talking about a couple of girls I have spoken to in the salon and they have told me about their exploits. I obviously don’t speak graphically about it. It just sort of came up. She finds the idea of girls doing that revolting and has too much self esteem and virtue. She said she could never do that.

(Isn’t it sort of happening between us?)

We start chatting about how excited she is to go to Florida for the winter break. She loves the warmth of the temperature down there. She misses her dog Sadie and can’t wait to drive around in her Jeep. She tells me she’ll probably just rest, workout, try to eat better, walk her dog, and cruise around in her jeep. She misses driving!

Best part is, she won’t have to do any studying, write any papers, or go to any classes. Just fun in the sun. She will probably be as brown as a penny when she comes back to Philly in a month.

Funny thing is, I don’t hear about anything else. I know she likes tanning and getting dark. I know she likes to eat and digs snacks. She says her mom loves snacks too. Her mother once went looking for snacks in Kita’s room and discovered some condoms. I love the idea of Kita having condoms. (Just suiting up with a condom before plunging into her.)

But I digress…

She works out everyday. I guess what I’m saying here is, Kita is going to do exactly what she does up here as she’ll do down there. I didn’t hear anything about friends or going out or anything.

I think our lovely little Kita may be a bit of a bore. I think I see how a man could tire of her once he’s had sex with her. What do you do with her? She’s very indecisive, needy, sober, etc. Not very fun.

But here’s the thing. I’m attracted to her. I’ve never had her. I want her. She’s adorable and spends time with me. That’s pretty nice for me.

I’ll just keep writing about her until I figure it all out.

 

Near the end of the meal I ask her a question.

“Kita, I like you and enjoy your company. I appreciate you joining me for lunch today. I’d like to meet up with you and see you outside of the salon again. It can be food or we can go to Dave & Busters like we talked about that. I’d like us to do that on a regular basis. Would you like that?”

“Yes. Yes, we can definitely do that. I’d like that.”

That’s all I needed.

The bill comes, and of course I am delighted to pay. She loved her Salmon salad, and polished off the last of the mac and cheese I got for us to split. I liked when she picked up the spoon and dug the last dollop out of the bowl and put it in her sweet mouth.

 

She’s summoning her UBER and it’s rapidly approaching. We get ourselves together and head outside into the winter afternoon sunlight. She has to go write a paper for her finals, and I have to get to the salon.

“Oh it’s here! Gimme kiss!”

I take her lovely visage in my hands and peck her plump lips, and she’s off.

I start walking east on JFK Blvd. and light a cigarette. I reflect on the day and my relationship with Kita.

I buy special snacks and fruit for her. I always have a little something there for her to munch on. I give her free water to fill up her water bottle. I took her out to a posh dinner. I bought her a special bronzing lotion to better tan her. I bought her pepper spray and showed her how to use it to help keep her safe in the city. Now I’ve taken her out to lunch and discussing future dates and activities for us to do together.

 

Oh my God.

 

Kita is my sugarbaby!

 

 

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Kita – Chapter 37 – Second Date – Xmas – Part 1

“Is there a time between now and when you leave for Florida that I can see you outside of this salon for lunch or dinner?”

“Open your calendar.”

“Is there a time between now and when you leave for Florida that I can see you outside of this salon for lunch or dinner?”

“Open your calendar.”

So it was on for my 2nd date with Kita. I set it up at one of my go to lunch spots and headed over there.

Misconduct is a nautical themed sports bar. I arrived a half an hour early so I could chat with my friend Mary the hostess. (See: Mary – Unexpected Table for Two) Unfortunately because business was slow they cut her early. The place was dead which I like but of course some idiot was responsible for playing the music too loud in the restaurant. That happens more than less and Mary and I both hate it. Why would you crank the music up during lunch when there are business people there and then be stupid enough to leave it at that level when the place is nearly empty?

I mentioned it to my server and she didn’t seem thrilled about asking whoever controls the volume to turn that shit down. If it weren’t for Mary and the great food there I’d boycott that place. She either didn’t make the request or the person ignored it because the music stayed at the same level the entire time I was there. But… I’ll let that go and we’ll go forward.

At least I’m at my favorite table, #12. It’s a high top by the front windows and close to the hostess and service area. It’s also the quietest spot in the restaurant.

I get a text from Kita.

“On my way!”

“You’re the best.”

“I’m in an Uber pool so I’ll be there soon.”

Uber Pool takes a little longer because they usually have a couple of people in the car and the driver has to drop them all off at their destinations.

I see her come in the door and I walk from the table to greet her. She looks so cute in her puffy winter coat. She gives me a big hug, her hair smells delicious.

We sit and the server brings her a water. I already know what I want. I get the same thing every time I go there. Chicken tenders with dipping sauce, and a small bowl of mac and cheese with a side of sriracha to share.

I notice that it seems to take little Kita an exorbitant amount of time to decide what she wants to eat. It’s cute now to watch her struggle with all the choices on the menu. But I’m sure that shit would get super annoying if I were in a relationship with her. You know, you get to the restaurant, you’re hungry, she’s running late. You already know what you want and she’s taking forever to decide between a salad or a sandwich.

I’m just saying… I’ve been at this awhile.

So Kita can’t make up her mind and actually sends the server away twice. The music volume hasn’t been lowered, and now I see our waitress sitting across the room at one of the tables against the wall and is eating.

This server sucks, but I get it. We’re her only customer, she probably put her food order in because it’s dead now and she can actually finally get something to eat before happy hour when the place is cranking in here. But because Kita can’t make up her mind, she probably is like, “fuck her I’m going to eat.”

So when Kita finally knows what she wants the server lets us rot for awhile. I really wanted to thrash her in a bad Yelp review, but this is my last little Christmas lunch date for awhile with this cute baby. So I can’t really get upset because I’m just stupid happy to look across the table and see who came all the way down here into the city to have lunch with ME!

Kita is young, fit and beautiful. She can have lunch with any guy she wants. But I asked and she’s sitting here with me and I adore her.

The server finally drags herself back to our table and thankfully, Kita is ready. We order and then settle back into warm conversation. We talk about the holidays, our families. She tells me her Dad is such a high ranking official in the military she’s doesn’t really know what he does. But she shows me some pics on her phone of her dad and mom flying in what appears to be a small jet. They’re sitting what almost appear to be big plush chairs you’d have in your living room.

“Is that a Gulf Stream?”

“Yea. That’s how my dad gets around. in a Lear Jet.”

“Holy crap! I can’t top that with anything. That’s so cool. Did you or your sister every get to fly on it?”

“No. But if my dad was in Philly and was headed back to Florida, I would most definitely fly on it with him. But I can’t fly on it by myself because that would be a waste of the taxpayers dollars.”

“Speaking of that, what do you think of our current administration?”

“I can’t speak on that because my father has to embrace the President because of his high ranking position in the military. That’s all of his buddies in there. He hangs out with a lot of those guys in Washington.”

“Wow. That’s interesting.” I decide to veer away from that subject.

We’re talking about tanning and the salon, and I don’t know how but we chat about some of the interesting characters that come through on a daily basis. She spends so much time there with me she’s even met a few of them. She has a good memory, is organized, and very bright. She just lacks experience.

That will come, and I can help.

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Sauced

“This isn’t what rock and roll is all about,”

That night in Hollywood, the band was playing the Roxy, and after sound check I had gone to the bar to play the poker machine. I made a huge mistake and had some bad shellfish earlier,”  The raw fish made my stomach churn and roil. I felt what I was sure was just a substantive fart building up, and I let ‘er rip. Unfortunately, I got more than I bargained for and my bowels voided themselves at that moment. There was at least a solid cup of shit. My stomach rumbled again and my gut expelled another wave of noxious waste. It was everywhere. It was, like, a quart of diarrhea. Soiled, shit-stinking, and sick, I retired to a lounge are upstairs and laid down.

Several hours later, I was back in action, hanging out with some of my band mates  in the venue’s VIP section. But the scene was grim, said bassist Frank: “No talent here; not a looker in the lot.” I grabbed the tour manager and headed to the bar next door, where I was soon approached by an enthused fan. “I think she’s half-Mexican, but she’s pretty hot,” he says.

“Yo, I know you’re in one of the bands,” the girl proposed. “I’ll do anything if you get me into the show.”

Now, you might think you know exactly what happened next, but if you’re picturing a sordid, back-room exchange, you’d only be half-right. I handed the girl “a shot of insanity hot sauce,” which she put down without issue. Then she took another. I escorted her backstage to the VIP section and went back upstairs to watch TV, while the girl proceeded to attack with gusto the green room’s generously stocked open bar.

Two hours later, between sets and I run into hot-sauce girl.

“This is the guy who got me in!” she screamed, hammered after a go at the open bar.

She threw her arms around me and shoved her tongue into my mouth. We weren’t really making out, more like she was molesting me. She was sloppy, but that was hardly a deterrent. Wanting privacy, I took the girl through the back of the venue to a quiet area, pulled open a door, and stepped into a small room. Even playing rough house rock and roll, making out with some drunk ass slapper in the middle of the VIP area is frowned upon.

I realize we’re in the trash room.  We’re literally surrounded by gargantuan piles of trash, heaped high and probably smelling like the contents of my underwear earlier that night. (I had cleaned myself up and had changed by then and was feeling much better) Things started getting hot and heavy between us, and suddenly, the girl stopped the action to make a request. “I’m on the rag right now,” she said, before asking me to place myself someplace fairly uncomfortable. She asked me to fuck her in the ass.

That was the first time I had ever done that. I was a little concerned about the two shots of hot sauce I had given her earlier circling back and burning my little German knockwurst.

I think she was from Puerto Rico.

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Lenore – She Who Comes Bearing Gifts

This girl I worked with asked if I would meet her friend for a date. I’m always apprehensive about these sort of things. But I had a great work relationship with my friend at work. So I took the friend’s number and called her. We chatted on the phone a few times. One topic of conversation was me always eating Pringles potato chips when we were on the phone. One of my bandmates worked at a supermarket, and we would clip a few items occasionally for his poor bandmates.  (this becomes relevant later). She seemed like someone I’d enjoy spending time with, so we decided to meet for dinner.

I was excited to meet. In hindsight, there were a few warning signs that this might not turn out well for me.

1. In one phone conversation, the topic of butt size came up, and she said something to the effect of, “don’t be scared by how big mine is.”

2. When discussing our dinner date, she said, “You have to promise me that no matter what, we’ll meet again after our date, even if it doesn’t work out, we can have drinks and laugh about it.”

3. When she was describing how I’d recognize her outside the restaurant, she said, “I drive a purple Camaro.”

Being young and naive, I didn’t think much of it all, and arrived at the restaurant that evening with an open mind. How soon things changed. After waiting outside a few minutes, up pulls a purple Camaro convertible. If you’ve ever seen the movie Friday, where Smokey gets set up with “Janet Jackson”, you know what comes next. Back then I weighed about 118 lbs. and am 5’9″. That’s a lean build. This girl had at least 50 lbs. on me, if not more. “HEYYYYY!!!” She greeted me, and I did my best not to look scared to death.

In addition to her purse, she was carrying a brown paper bag. I didn’t really want to know what might be inside. We went in and got seated at our table and after a minute or two of uneasy conversation, she said, “I brought you something.” Out comes the paper bag, from which she pulls out a Ken doll, dressed as Superman, with “Mr. Pringles” written on the cape. My face felt like it was on fire and I could feel everyone in the entire place staring at me.

After ordering dinner, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. On the way back to the table, I passed the front door and seriously considered making a run for it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Defeated, I slowly walked back to the table and we had our dinner.

We had also planned to go to a comedy club afterwards. I intended to offer to drive us both there, but instead told her to follow me in her car. Again, I considered maybe trying to drive fast and lose her on the way, but figured my VW minibus couldn’t outrun her Camaro. Fearing getting heckled by the comedians all night, I found a table in a dark corner towards the back and the rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. After the show, we said our goodbyes and before I could turn to go, she grabbed me and, giving me a giant bear hug, whispered, “Make sure you call me.”

Needless to say, that was the last I ever saw of Camaro girl. I learned a lot about dating the “friend with the great personality” that night. But to be totally honest, I would have hung out with her again, but that whole “Mr. Pringles” thing really creeped me the fuck out.

 

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Kita – Chapter 22 – The Rising Tide – Part 2

“Just take some time for yourself. Befriend time. Because it takes time to heal.”

She hung out at the salon for three hours today! I love having her here. She’s such a pleasure to chat with and spend time with. She tells me how grateful she is that she has someone that can help her get through this mess.

“I hate men.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hate boys.”

“That’s better.”

“All of these boys are just awful!”

“Maybe this is the time for you to take a break from dating and just work on yourself and try to heal. Then when the pain passes, you’ll be ready to commit to a meaningful relationship with someone who’ll treat you with love and respect.”

“You’re right.”

“Just take some time for yourself. Befriend time. Because it takes time to heal.”

“Thank you. Hey, why don’t you ever send anyone into Room 5?”

“Go look.”

“I can go in there?”

“Yea.”

Kita walks over and opens the door. “Hey, there’s no tanning bed in here! What’s it for?”

“We were going to buy an additional stand up unit and put it in there but we found we didn’t really need it. So now it’s just storage for the most part.”

“Hey, what’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“C’mere.”

I walk around the counter and head over to room 5. “What’s…?”

“Close the door.”

I gotta watch the front.”

“This won’t take long.”

Then Kita came close to me and we kissed. I gently held her lovely face in my hands and kissed her ripe lips. Then, again. And again. She then hugged my tightly.

“You better go.”

I’m always a little shell shocked when I kiss this eastern beauty. I’m totally falling for her. I quickly get back to the counter and regain some of my composure. Some customers walk in and they’re none the wiser. Kita steps out of 5 smiling slyly, and quietly closing the door behind her. She pads across the floor like a cat and sits in the waiting area.

I like these little kissing sessions we’ve shared. This is a virtuous woman that’s only been intimate with one dude and he’s history. The new guy’s messing up already and will probably screw up this once in a lifetime chance to be with this beautiful little chick. So the old lion will just lie quietly in the tall grass and wait for this little gazelle to get too close one day. But she’s a confused young girl who needs a mentor right now, not another predator.

I’m extremely patient.

Kita stays until closing just chatting away with me. She’s been here for three hours!

“Wanna come to Honeygrow with me?”

“Of course, Kita.”

We lock up and head over to the restaurant. Honeygrow is about thinking different when it comes to their approach, their style + their people. Founded by Justin Rosenberg in Philadelphia in 2012, Honeygrow brings people together over the highest quality, wholesome, simple foods. As a newly converted proponent of a plant-based diet and tired of the mediocrity in both food and experiences presented by many of the older + emerging fast dining options, Justin decided to leave the cubicle world, train in a fine-dining kitchen, and pursue a life that spoke to his passion: Creating awesome things through the lens of nourishing foods. People love Honeygrow in this city. The place is always mobbed during the day. This is where the young people of this city eat now. MacDonald’s Wendy’s, Taco Bell and Burger King are still around and churning out the hit’s but the healthy minded urban professional eat at places like this now. Hip City Vedge, Snap Kitchen, and Sweet Green are just some of the new cool, healthy places to grab a bite in Philly.

The city is changing and I’m getting older. But all these pretty girls that roll in and out of my life all stay the same age!

Kita is chattering on about how she’s so confused about Steve’s behavior. I feel it won’t be long for him. Poor fool has no idea what he’s passing up. To have the virtuous, clean love of this gorgeous, fit lady and eventually have the honor to make love with her. Idiot! He’s blowing it! He’s causing drama and problems where none were there before. I’ll just be here for her and listen.

We munch our salads and I realize this is the first time I’ve ever been in one of these places. It’s pretty nice! I should eat better.

Kita glances about quickly and takes my hand. Looking me in the eyes she says softly; “Thank you… for everything!”

I smile back gazing into her lovely almond eyes. “Of course, my dear.

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Merlin McFly’s

In June 1979, a bar “with a magical theme” opened in Santa Monica. It was called Merlin McFly’s and was notable for its décor: nine stained glass windows depicting Merlin, Aladdin, Houdini, a fire-eater (below) and other notable names from the history of magic and sorcery. It was part of a chain of bar/grills across California, the other “family members” – Maxwell, Maestro, Maggie, Sly and Sky – also offering imaginative décor (heavy on the stained glass windows of course) and definitely looking to entertain their customers.

I worked there in 1983, first as a food cashier for the kitchen. I’d take the food orders, ring up the sale and pass the ticket to the cooks. I later was trained as a cook, and for the first time in my life started cooking meals. Before I came to Cali, I lived with my parents so all of my meals were cooked by my parents or I ate out somewhere. Usually fast food.

But this is really where I learned to cook. I still consider myself the “king of the fire pit grill.”

I remember there were two managers. I think their names were John and Renee. I don’t know if either of them had spouses but I know for a fact they were doing plenty of coke up in the office and were totally banging each other.

Oh, there was this other guy that managed for a short time. He was a fat clown. I remember he went on a game show, called Dream House. You could win a house if you crushed all of the questions. he’s bragging to the whole staff about when he’s going on the show and tells us all to watch him win. We’re all like, whatever.

So the day comes and we all crowd around the TV set in the office. He’s on there looking all goofy and cocky and they ask him this question: “If you fed a cow cocoa beans she would give chocolate milk.”

Him: “I agree.”

And like that he was off the show. In and out. We ripped him apart when he returned to work.

There were roaming magicians in the restaurant and would come to your table while you ate or drank and would do close up magic for you and your guests. It was such  cool place to work.

The wait staff were all hot women, that were dressed all in black. Tight lycra low cut body suits. Stockings, either fishnets or nude. They all wore a black skirt that revealed one of their legs. (Of course it was my mission to work there) They all looked like magician’s assistants.

I remember this especially hot one. Heather was a tall blonde that everybody loved. She looked like my ex girlfriend Michelle but 24 years old and long blonde hair.  It was my birthday and Heather walked up to me and French kissed me sensuously on the lips. I was shocked and stunned and turned on all in the same moment. Everybody loved it and laughed as I limped back into the kitchen. Nothing ever happened but it’s just something Heather could get away with anytime she wanted. Like a tigress that couldn’t be caged ad lived by her own rules.

One night I was emptying the dirty fat from the fryer. This was done but attaching a nozzle to an opening on the lower part of the fryer. Then I would get a big metal pot. Huge. Two feet tall. Like a huge metal bucket with metal handles on the side. I’d stick the metal pot under the nozzle and then turn on the spigot. This was done a few nights a week. The oil would get dirty and you have to change it so your fried foods don’t come out all brown and gross. Those fries need to be crisp and golden!

So I’m letting all of this hot empty out of the fryer and into the big pot. It’s the end of the night and the kitchen is closing. So it’s after midnight. The fryer has been off for a bit so the 350 degree oil has cooled down a bit. Plus it’s dirty so it will cool faster because it’s not as pure as fresh fat.

As you know, metal is a great conductor. So when the oil enters the pot it heats up the metal. You have to put towels around the two handles on the side to carry the pot. When it’s full, you have to pick it up, and carry it through the slippery floored kitchen and therough the dishwashing section and out the back door to outside. This thing is very heavey, awkward to carry and is filled with hot oil. I hate this part of the job more than any other part.

I get the pot outside and I have to pour the hot contents into a big metal upright barrel. Usually that goes with out a hitch.

But not tonight. I leaned the big pot against it and started to pour it in the barrel when the barrel tipped towards me and the contents of the barrel splashed back into my face!

I’m freaking out. It’s burned my face and gone in my eyes and I call for help.

The good news is. It had rained earlier so there was a load of cool water down in the bottom of that barrel. So that cooled the oil down from whatever nightmarish temperature it was was when I carried it out here. So I was okay, but I couldn’t see because the oil had gotten in my eyes. One of the Mexican dishwashers came out to help me get inside.

The manager and one of the waitresses, Holly came over and sat with me. They cleaned me up and asked if I was okay. I could see just fine but my face was a bit red but I’d live. They asked if they could get me anything. (Thinking about it now I think they were afraid I’d sue or something) I told them I wanted a 151 and coke. Done. I was all better.

We had this huge doorman named Ivan. When the employee meal went out I always gave him and extra load of whatever was on it. Extra chick, steak or whatever. I would call his name to come pick up his meal and he would always smile and drop a couple of joints next to the plate on the rack as he picked it up. It was like one fluid moment. Hand off plate, joints dropped, snatched, and slipped into my pocket. Thanks to Ivan there was never a shortage of weed.

I would do the same for a few of the girls that worked there and they would bring rum and cokes to me and the other chef. So even back then I knew how to get the hookup. Learned from the best…my Dad!

I’ll write in other posts about my celebrity meeting at this fun establishment.

The great thing about doing a bunch of different jobs in your life is, it gives you a different perspective on life and you really do learn a lot of skills in a variety of environments.

A Merlin McFly’s advertisement promised it was a place of “madness, magic and friendly spirits” and that their menu offered the delights of their “mystic burgers” and “wizard ribs”. “Fun is the password” said another in 1984, which had a hand-drawn picture of “P. Eye McFly” and report of the “The Great Restaurant Mystery”, an “investigation” into the McFly’s family tree and their restaurants.

By that time though, Merlin McFly’s was having some trouble. (I was gone by then so I missed all of the trouble.) There were local problems with drug dealing, the city of Santa Monica had an ancient licensing rule about “Dance Halls” that meant McFly’s theoretically had to impose a cover charge, and then there was the issue that hit many singles bars very hard: the rising awareness and fear of HIV and AIDS.

When the bar closed, there were dozens of calls when it was announced that the windows would be on sale – at a price of $325,000. Steve Spill at the nearby Magicopolis magic theater bought the windows a year or two later and then sold them to a collector who put them in a stained glass museum in Washington, DC.

Today, Sly McFly’s in Monterey is the only one left, and their website’s amusing “story” of aspiring race car driver Sly mentions how he finished second at the Trophy Race in Ulster – a connection to Finn McCool’s Irish Bar, which is owned by Belfast-born Geraldine Gilliland and is now at that spot on Main Street.

Geraldine wears funky glasses and has long, red hair, and originally started out working at a restaurant in her native Northern Ireland. She grew up during the early days of “The Troubles” – “I used to fall to the kitchen floor when the bombs started going off” – and like many others she moved away, eventually finding herself in Los Angeles:

“I found LA very exotic – they spoke a different language, even though it was English! It was very scary actually – I didn’t know anyone at all, (but) I fell in love with Santa Monica after I drove from New York. When I saw the beach I cashed in my Greyhound bus ticket and my return ticket to Ireland too.”

As soon as she arrived, she started working over the grill and has continued ever since. Gilliland’s Cafe opened its doors in 1984, and she began her own catering company soon after. It was an immediate success, providing Christmas puddings to Bloomingdales, Dean & Deluca and Balducci’s in New York, but it was her mix of California and Irish cuisines that really established Gerri’s reputation on a national scale.

The cantina-style Lula Cocina was next in 1991, and 1994 saw Jake and Annie’s American-Irish Café, which eventually become Finn McCool’s and officially opened under this name a few days before St. Patrick’s Day in 2002.

As for any ghosts or strange stories, Spill hadn’t ever heard anything about Merlin McFly’s, but Gilliland – who has now been here for nearly 20 years – had:

“There were ghosts in the bathrooms. It was said that every time you washed your hands and looked in the mirror, an apparition appeared.”

The bathrooms at Finn McCool’s are in the same place as they were when Merlin was weaving his spells, but after emailing John Forbes at Bonny Doon Art Glass I found out exactly where the ghosts came from:

“The bathrooms had special effects in them; the mirrors were one-way and when the lights in the bathroom dimmed, the light behind the mirror came on illuminating the figure of the “ghost”. It made for startling looks on people’s faces as they saw the ghost figure appearing in the mirror!”

There was no further archival evidence of any strange events or stories here, so it seems that since this ghostly story has an earthly explanation, you’re safe in the smallest room. Still, it’s kind of a shame that the “ghost” special effect isn’t there anymore.

Forbes also recalled the Merlin stained glass image:

“The back bar had a stained glass image of Merlin and at midnight lasers would turn on, shooting red beams across the room – it looked pretty cool as it pierced through the drifting smoke. Wow, that took me back! Merlin’s was a really fun project, a lot of creative energy.”

 

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Kita – Chapter 16 – First Date – Part 4

The food comes and it’s amazing. I share some of my chicken with her because she says she loves chicken. I like sharing my food with her. There’s something intimate about that.

We discuss her ex a bit more. I make it clear to her why shouldn’t text him or reach out in any way. He doesn’t deserve it after the way he treated this little flower. We also discuss the new guy that’s she’s been dating, Steve. I can tell she knows he’s nice but the indelible stain of JR is still on her heart. She again says that they are in no way an item. I like that. This poor girl’s in a vulnerable state of mind. But I must keep my black wings tucked for now.

She’s excited to see her younger sister Jina on Saturday. She’s on the rowing team at her school and Kita is going to see her race on the Schuylkill River. She and her sister are both very close.

After dinner I tell her that we must get the flight of gelato. She agrees, and we check the menu and decide on what flavors we want to sample. The flight is a line of six long spoons and each one has a dollop of deliciousness on it.

We settle on the following: Pistachio, (of course!) Caffe, Cannolo, Fondente, Bacio, and Tiramisu. All amazing. I thought they were just going to bring out just the one plate and we’d share but our server rolls up with TWO plates of six spoons.

“Oh my gosh… I have to take a picture of this!” squeals Kita.

We take our forks and start to pick at each one. I love food like this. Just small portions, and each one has it’s own creamy unique flavor. Each mouthful makes you feel different than the one before. Like a Beatles album. This is clearly the encore to a wonderful meal with a beautiful young lady.

After dessert the bill comes and she wants to help. I love that she even asked. If you’ve been reading this blog you’ll know that I’ve been on dozens of dates and many of these women don’t even offer. I have no intention of letting Kita pay. I insist because I’m the one who asked her out to dinner and she’s the poor, Raman noodle eating college sophomore. That, and the fact that she’s a young, smoking hot baby.

Since I get the hookup there, the bill was only $60! Kita doesn’t drink, so that right there is a huge savings. Drinks can easily add $40 to your bill. Kita doesn’t know it but she’ll never have to pay when she’s out with me. I’m just honored to be in the presence of this girl. She could hang out with whoever she wants at her age, but tonight she chose me and I’m going to do whatever necessary to please her.

The best part up to this moment is when we were talking about next time. Next time. I’ve been in sales my whole life. Any good salesman knows that when you get the first meeting you always set up the second meeting before you leave. A, B, C… Always Be Closing! I don’t set a specific date for our next foray into food, but I do discuss how great the noodles and pot stickers are at Dan Dan over on 16th street. Plus, my buddy Norm will give us the hookup.

We gather our coats and thank everyone for everything and tell them how wonderful the entire experience has been. The general manager even came by to make sure we were happy. This could be my new go-to spot to romance ladies.

We get outside and we can feel the snap in the air of the October evening.

“Ooohh… I miss Florida!”

She calls for an Uber and we walk down to 16th street to catch it.

“Thank you so much for a lovely evening, Charles.”

We hug and I can smell the jasmine in her hair.

“Wait…” She takes my face in her tender hands. “Come closer.”

That’s the moment she kissed me on the lips. They are full and warm against mine. This takes me by surprise and my heart skips a beat or two. It’s not a sexual kiss. Just a firm thankful, pressing kiss and then slow release.

“Thank you, Charles.” Her lovely almond eyes glisten in the evening light. Her mouth curves into a mischievous grin. She seems to be enjoying the look of mute awe on my startled face.”

“See ya!”

She hops in the car and she’s off.

I’m stunned beyond words. Dopamine has dropped and the euphoria takes my spirit. I turn and do the slow motion Reservoir Dogs walk down 16th street as I light a cig and pull deeply upon it.

Wow. Just…Wow.

I text her. “Had a great time tonight! Text me when you get home safe.”

Fifteen minutes later I’m home in my chair.

“Thanks so much for dinner, Charles!!!! It was awesome and super good!! (Emoji with little hearts for eyes) I just made it back!”

I smile and take a sip of wine. Maiden voyage has been a success. The universe is unfolding as it should.

 

 

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