I’m a bartender who’s witnessed countless first dates — here are all the things you’re doing wrong

  • As a bartender, I’ve witnessed countless first dates play out in front of me.
  • I’ve come to learn several mistakes people make on their first dates, like getting too drunk, underdressing, or not having enough money to cover the bill.
  • Here are the biggest mistakes I see people make on first dates at bars.

Something a world-famous bartender recently said on bars and dating culture stuck with me.

Jim Meehan, the author of “Meehan’s Bartender Manual,” said that in the early years of his career, bars weren’t where people went on dates, but where they went to find dates.

Nowadays, online dating has changed the game. And as a bartender in the age of dating apps, I’m grateful that I’m spared the horror of seeing real-life Tinder swiping in front of my eyes.

But one painful ritual I’m frequently audience to is the cringeworthy first date. I’ve witnessed countless first dates play out from behind the bar, and I’ve gotten a sense of what works and what doesn’t from both parties.

These are the worst and most frequent mistakes I see people making, and what they could be doing better.

Know the kind of bar you’re going to.

Know the kind of bar you're going to.Nathan Klima for The Boston Globe via Getty Images

Because of apps, most of us go in relatively blind to first dates — we haven’t met our match in real life.

But that doesn’t mean you should go in blind to the bar too. You don’t have to be the person who didn’t make a reservation, or is overdressed or underdressed, or isn’t ready for the sticker shock of the menu. I’ve seen all of the above, and other than being small-talk fodder for the date, it’s not a good look.

Scout a place on a day before the date. Make sure you know things like the likelihood of a wait, or if the atmosphere is entirely too romantic, or too loud to hold a conversation.

But be cautious of overfamiliarity.

But be cautious of overfamiliarity.Reuters/Bernadett Szabo

It’s also funny to me when people take different dates, week after week, to my same bar.

We bartenders won’t do it on purpose, but you are running the risk of having us inadvertently reveal your penchant for dating around, which also might not be a good look.

“Hey there. Same as last week? Old-fashioned for you and a Bee’s Knees for the lady?”

In my effort to flex my ability to remember your face and drink order, it’s not uncommon to accidentally reveal you were here last week with someone else — someone who in this case apparently likes to drink a Bee’s Knees.

Check your card balance beforehand.

Check your card balance beforehand.Shutterstock/svershinsky

Always check your card balance before you go out to make sure you have enough to cover your bill. Or if you’re out of town, make sure your bank won’t lock out your card for security reasons.

I always try to be discreet if I can tell someone is on a date when their card is declined, but if you don’t have cash or another viable card, that date you intended to treat may end up footing the bill. Awkward.

For goodness sake, tip 20%.

Always tip your bartender 20%. No matter how the service was. Every time. Whether you’re on a date or not. But especially on a first date.

Because even if waiting tables or making drinks isn’t your date’s current profession, you never know whether they were a former service-industry worker and will be sensitive to the issue.

I can almost guarantee they’re going to check to see how much you tipped. And a good tip will show them you acknowledge the hard work that goes into a service-industry job, which usually comes with a base rate below the minimum wage.

A tip higher than 20% would be, ahem, uber-classy and demonstrate generosity.

And if you know that your date has worked as a bartender and still don’t intend to tip 20%, just stay home.

Side note: If a customer gives me their phone number while I’m bartending but tips less than 20%, I’m immediately throwing it away.

Don’t get wasted.

Don't get wasted.Craig Barritt/Getty Images for Garden & Gun

This one probably speaks for itself.

I remember a gentleman once showing up early at the bar for his date. He pounded two double vodka sodas by himself. He pounded another double vodka soda when his date left, after an awkward hour of squinting, swaying, and not saying too much.

It’s also pretty awkward to get cut off by the bartender on a date with someone new, as happened to me just a few weeks ago. After balking and accusing me of simply not wanting to serve him, the young man — yes, it’s usually the men over-imbibing — left a one-star Yelp review about it.

I imagine that being cut off in front of your date is less embarrassing than falling down the stairs at a three-story bar, so I maintain that I was helping him in the long run.

When it comes to conversational faux pas, oversharing is a big one.

When it comes to conversational faux pas, oversharing is a big one.Chris Hondros/Getty

I’ve seen more than one dater’s eyes glaze over as their date regurgitates a spectrum of emotions on topics relating to their exes, drug use, daddy and mommy issues — the list goes on.

It’s one thing to have a back-and-forth where you’ve connected on deeper, emotional topics on a first date, but when it’s a monologue, it’s like watching a therapy session — a really awkward therapy session.

Daters often have go-to topics, like travel and television, but miss cues that their date doesn’t care.

Daters often have go-to topics, like travel and television, but miss cues that their date doesn't care.NBC

Even traditionally “safe” topics, like travel, can go awry when daters use it as a conversational crutch.

From polling other bartenders, I can say the television show most heavily abused as a first-date conversation topic that goes absolutely nowhere is “The Office.”

So if your conversation is going this way: “Have you seen ‘The Office’? No? Well, there’s this scene where …” Stop at the word “no.” Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

A lot of conversational topics are fine with a good mix of questions. But some daters I see are like trial lawyers: They cross-examine their date.

A lot of conversational topics are fine with a good mix of questions. But some daters I see are like trial lawyers: They cross-examine their date.Getty Images

I’ve seen a lot of dates become deeply uncomfortable because they start to resemble a job interview.

Often, the questions are too probing and invasive.

If you’re trying to figure out your date’s marriage goals, bank account, and family disease history on the first date, you probably won’t get a second.

Don’t bring up your conspiracy theories on a first date.

Just don’t.

Or maybe do. They’re loads of fun for me to hear.

The best so far was a guy on a first date revealing he believed that “the moon is a man-made construct” — a serious level-up from the “we faked the moon landing” theory. Not as good as the “moon is made of cheese” hypothesis though.

Don’t misrepresent your physical appearance.

Don't misrepresent your physical appearance.Reuters/Jonathan Alcorn

I remember one incident where a guy was so freaked out by something that as soon as his date went to the bathroom, he had to tell the bartender I was working with: He thought his date looked great, but her dating-profile pictures must have been at least 15 years old.

People may be judgmental jerks about your appearance. But some won’t be. Misrepresenting yourself, on the other hand, perturbs everyone.

Don’t mansplain things to the bartender to try to be impressive.

Don't mansplain things to the bartender to try to be impressive.REUTERS/Marko Djurica

I think it’s a good thing when a couple on a date can make good conversation with the bartender. People reasonably make character judgments about others based on how they treat those serving them. Warm conversation can go far.

But men in particular are enormous offenders of bad bar chatter with the bartender on dates.

Sharing an enthusiasm for spirits, asking questions, and even sharing some information is fine. Giving condescending sermons on things I already know, like the difference between bourbon and rye, do not impress me and do not impress your date.

Likewise, don’t order an overly complicated drink to flex on your date.

Likewise, don't order an overly complicated drink to flex on your date.Michael Loccisano/Getty Images

The look I will give you while I make your Ramos Gin Fizz — an eight-ingredient cocktail that requires so much shaking that some bars just use a blender instead — will indicate to your date that you are a bona fide jerk.

Especially if I can tell you ordered one in an attempt to seem impressive.

Don’t act accosted by small grievances.

Don't act accosted by small grievances.Getty Images

Any time I’ve been serving or bartending and a dater bickered over trivial bill errors (that often weren’t actually errors), I usually notice a curled-lip response from their date.

You don’t look assertive. You look cheap and petty.

Likewise, don’t send back a drink when it’s not exactly to your liking. Suck it up.

And men especially, don’t act so affronted by a “girly” drink.

And men especially, don't act so affronted by a AP/Chris Pizzello/Invision

Don’t insist that I pour a cocktail meant for a stemmed coupe into a rocks glass in front of your date.

Plus, as I have in the past, I will make the next drink three times as effeminate just to make you reveal your fragile masculinity all over again.

Finally, if you insist on doing any of the above, don’t sit in front of me.

Finally, if you insist on doing any of the above, don't sit in front of me.Sarah Jacobs

Please, spare your bartender. We aren’t like servers. We’re stuck in front of our well.

And you always seem to insist on sitting right in front of us.

Sure, witnessing the schadenfreude can be entertainment. But it’s mostly just cringeworthy.

 

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Kita – Chapter 39 – Moments Before Florida

Kita popped into the salon for the last time before she goes to Florida for winter break. She leaves on December 12th and will be back in January on the 8th. I’ll miss her when she’s gone, but I kind of need a break from her to reassess my feelings for her.

I give her some crackers and she munches them happily because a we all know by now, baby loves snacks.

She wants to try one of the stronger tingle lotions tonight. She’s fearful to put it on all over so I tell her we should just put a small amount on her forearm about the size of a half dollar.

I take some from one of the bottles on the shelf and put it on her arm. I like that she lets me gently massage it into her skin. I love touching her and she’s so soft and supple. This to me is an intimate moment. She looks up at me as I gently caress her forearm, rubbing in the lotion. She smiles. I go in for the kiss. Her lips yield to me.

“Gonna miss you Kita.”

“Mmm… You too. That felt good.”

“The kiss or the lotion?”

“Both! That felt so good I wish you could do the rest of me!”

My brain explodes with erotic images of me rubbing the lotion all over Kita’s nubile body.

Kita giggles. “All right. I need to go tan. Then I have to go home and do one more paper for finals and then pack for Florida.

Off she goes into Room #2 with the Sweet & Sexy lotion I got for her.

While she’s tanning I’m thinking how much I’ll miss her, and how we may be possibly be hiring her in January to work here part time. I wonder how that will change the dynamic of our relationship. If we do hire her she’ll probably work the shifts I don’t so I’ll rarely see her. That would suck, but then she could tan for free and will probably go tanning even more than she does now. Maybe we’ll step up our little game outside of the salon. Maybe we can get together for lunch, dinner or some weekend fun.

Who am I kidding? Her working here would mean she would work on Saturday from 11 to 5 and I’d work Sunday, 11 to 4. That pretty much kills any weekend plans I could make with her. She doesn’t drink so I can’t meet her for a drink. Maybe I could take her to Dan Dan one night after she finishes work for noodles and pot stickers. (Local Asian cuisine on 16th and Sansom Street) I’m sure she’d love that. I’ll figure something out. Who knows, I’m so fickle that by the time she comes back after a month I may have either: A: Moved on to another romantic target, or B: Simply lost interest.

I’m not going to worry about it. Kita finishes her session and comes back to the counter to chit chat for awhile.

“Kita, could you run into Room 5? There’s a grey plastic bag on top of the microwave in there. Could you bring it to me?”

She scampers off like a puppy and does my bidding. When she comes back she sets it on the counter.

“Open it.”

“Oh my God! I love it! Thank you. (Hug and kiss) “That’s from the snack company you always get me. I saw them on the website and loved them and you got them for me. You’re amazing! Thank you!”

“Merry Christmas, Kita. I’ll Miss you.”

“I’ll send you texts and pics from Florida.”

“That’ll be great Kita.”

“This is so nice. I feel like I should have baked you cookies.”

That’s a nice verbal guilty gesture but I already know that poor Kita is so self absorbed and vacant that not only will that never happen she’ll vanish in the next few days without a word.

I love this little nut but only because she’s cute and I’m enjoying our banter. The confused kisses are delicious and wonderful but I know she has no idea who she is. Is there a way I can navigate that into a passionate love affair? I don’t know. Do I want that? Of course. Phicklephilly has always been an elegant dating blog, but given the chance, I would split little Kita like a ripe melon. I would bring her to places she has never imagined.

Kita is enjoying free lotion, snacks, pepper spray and snacks, and there is a lion in the grass that’s ready to spring forward and fuck her back to China. It’s like a present wrapped in a gift that pokes your palm.

Kita jumps up and hugs me. She immediately puts my hands on her breasts and kisses me, her nipples are always hard, like pretzel bites. God I love her, but I’m so confused.

Okay… she’s going to Florida for a month on winter break. She says she’s going to text me and send me pics of her town. That would be great but I know that’s never going to happen.

She wants a job here at the salon. Probably not happening either. Achilles likes to keep it simple and tight and we’re fine with the way it is now. I’m the king of this place with multiple five star Yelp reviews. We want to light the fitness part of our business, we don’t need outsiders. If I bring honey in, it would be just to give me a day off.

She leaves the salon and says she’ll be back for one more session, but I know It’s a lie. All my beautiful babies are so unreliable.

It’s okay. They all do this.

Kita left the salon with her treats and for the moment, it was done.

 

 

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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.

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly   Facebook: phicklephilly    twitter:@phicklephilly