Cherie – Chapter 6 – Be Careful What You Wish For – Part II

“Show me where there was a hole in your pants.”

“You’re driving!”

Advertisements

So she fires up the car after some more kissing and off we go to Dave and Buster’s. If you’ve never heard of it, it’s a big arcade down on the waterfront. It’s got a big restaurant area, a section with a bar, a billiard room, and in the back, this giant area with all sort of games where you can do just about anything. But you can also win a bunch of tickets and then turn them in for shitty prizes. The place is great for families and couples because there is tons of stuff to do and everybody loves it. We powered up our cards with points and went to town. She did really good on some games and I got 500 points on the Wheel of Fortune game.

I think our favorite game there, hands down was Jurassic Park. I love dinosaurs and all things Jurassic Park. Cherie loves games where we can team up and just shoot the shit out of stuff with automatic weapons. It was glorious. I read somewhere recently that if you do something exciting on a date, they will associate you with excitement. Bear this in mind. We are getting lost in the game, taking out raptors and T-Rex’s right and left. We kept re-upping with our cards, to keep the game going. We did this several times because we were having so much fun, until we realized that a couple of little boys were waiting to play. We hopped out and turned our weapons over to them! We both agreed we could have sat in that booth all day destroying Jurassic Park and it’s inhabitants all afternoon if we had the time and money.

We had earned a bunch of points but we were really there just for the fun, and never redeemed them for any of the junk they had in their little prize shop in the back. Maybe next time if we need a couple of plastic spiders or teddy bears or decoder rings.

So after two hours of games, we headed to the parking garage to fetch the car. At this point Cherie has been with me for over 4 hours. I check with her to see how she’s with time and all, and she’s fine. Being from Pottstown, She doesn’t know the city like I do, so I’m her co-pilot and navigator. We’re heading west on Spring Garden, and I have her throw a left on 19th street. I figure that’ll bring us right down into center city and we can get some sort of dinner. We get to Vine, and there’s a detour. Okay, I get it. Lot’s of construction going on in Philly. City is growing. That’s a good thing.

So now we’re heading west again. But we can’t turn left again anywhere. The Police have more streets blocked off. We get out to the Philadelphia Museum of Art and everything is still blocked off. There’s some sort of event going on out front of the PMA. Lots of people and little white tents. If Cherie had been on her own she would have been totally lost. We kept heading west unable to turn left and head back. I suggested we turn right and go north. We drove up a winding street out in Fairmount and I had her turn right on Poplar. That’s how far North we were.

Although we were basically driving around for an hour, I liked that Cherie described it as a road trip. I told her if she just stayed on Poplar and kept going, we’d get back to center city. We chatted about different things, work, school, family, etc. At some point I told her my ripped pants story. She laughed and asked where the hole had been in the other pants. We had been a little frisky earlier and there had been some suggestive flirty talk so things had changed a lot since 1:30 this afternoon.

I told her about this guy I used to know who always thought about things mathematically. So if you went on a date and you were out for say, 2 hours, that was just a date. But if it was longer, like say over 4 hours he would count that as 2 dates. Make sense? It did to him. She says, so technically we’re no longer on our 3rd date we’re on like our 5th. I laugh and say yes, according to my friend.

She goes, “show me where they were ripped.”

“You’re driving!”

We stop at a light and I take her hand, and slowly raise my left leg and place her hand there under my crotch. I know this is an extremely forward move, but it was playful and I think she really wanted to touch me. So I say, “right there.” She says, “okay” and rubs the spot gently. The light turns green and she has to focus on driving. We laugh about the whole silly hole thing. We basically spent the next 20 minutes looking for parking. Maybe it was  a half hour. But instead of it being stressful and annoying like you would think it would be, it was a lively road trip as she called it. We were just enjoying each others company and were having a good time. Cherie is so patient and laid back. It’s wonderful.

It’s dark now, and we finally find a spot for the Saab down at 23rd and Christiansen. She’s like, “are we really far away from everything? Because I don’t know the city.” I exclaim, “After that trip, I don’t even know where I live anymore!” We laugh and smooch and get out of the  car. I ask her if she’s hungry and she says yes. We’re walking north on 23rd street now. I see this guy walking carrying a pizza box. I tell her that whenever I see that it always makes me smile, want pizza, and maybe follow him. I ask her if she could go for some piping hot delicious pie. She says she can and I tell her I know just the place. They do brick oven and they even have a bar there.

We go into Mix Pizza at 21st and Chestnut. I’m a big fan of this place. She doesn’t want any weird kind of pizza even though they can make you any combination of sin you want on your oven baked pie. She’s so easy to get along with. We order an 18″ half pepperoni, half plain. My favorite. She gets a root beer and I get a diet coke. I look at the cocktail menu. She asks me if I want a drink and I tell her I don’t. I just don’t feel like drinking. Little does she know, she’s the drug I am currently on.

I ask her if she’s ever had anchovies and she says they’re nasty. I agree. I go on to tell her this story about this girl I used to go out with when I was in California in the early eighties with my band. She loved anchovies. So we would order a pizza and her half would be anchovies and mine would be plain. But the horrible rub was this. The pizza is hot in the box when you get it. That nasty, salty anchovy juice would bleed over into two of MY slices. So technically she was getting 6 slices and I was getting only 2 slices of what I liked. It was gross. But I loved her so it didn’t really matter. She asked a little more about her. I told her I was 19 at the time and she was 18, and that I had met her through a girl I worked with at this restaurant. I also told her I relieved her of her virginity. I didn’t mention that she was black. She was my first black girlfriend. I don’t know why, but things are still new and I just didn’t want to get her gears turning that maybe black women are a fetish or a thing that I jump into once every decade or so. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but I have to be careful with this lady’s heart.

The pizza comes and we tear into it. It’s delicious. She picks up her slice and starts eating it but it’s hot. I tell her to be careful that the hot cheese doesn’t slide off and slam into her chin, burning her beyond recognition. We laugh about it. I of course am eating mine with a knife and fork. Cherie’s amused about this but says she likes that I am such a neat eater. Most men devour and attack food. I carefully dissect my food and then consume it. She doesn’t care and compliments me on being so sweet and such a gentleman. It’s nice to be appreciated. At the end of the meal we still have 4 slices left. When I go to Mix and I’m really hungry, I normally get the 12′ pie. I can crush that thing. I figured there were two of us and I didn’t know how much she would eat. But we’re basically done. I ask the guy to wrap it up. He says it’s still good for later. I agree.

I pay the bill and head back to the car, which is far away but it’s a nice clear night. I’m carrying this big pizza box as we walk south on 21st street. I have suddenly become the man I see on the street that I want to follow. I’m the guy with the pizza. I ask her if she wants to take it home and she says not really. I’m not really a leftovers guy, and don’t feel like carrying this huge box anymore. I want to hold hands with Cherie.

We get to 21st and Sansom and I tell her I want to make a quick stop. She’s fine with it. Just like she’s fine with everything. I may have never met a woman who is this easy-going in my entire life. I hang a left on Sansom. I tell her how much I like Sansom street. It’s just this little narrow street between Chestnut and Walnut but it has so many different cool places on it. The Ritz movie theater, Helium Comedy Club, performance spaces, bars, restaurants, record shops, a comic book store, a gay porn place, I mean everything. I should do a chapter about a tour that I take and go to every place on Sansom in a day.

We get to 19th street and walk past Cavanaugh’s bar. There’s an alcove that appears to be a loading dock for the back of maybe Boyds department store on Chestnut. There’s usually a few homeless people getting some shelter in there. I see a man, in ragged clothes with a pile of his stuff. He’s not one of these street grifter types we have here in Philly. This man is really homeless. I cross the street, with baby in tow, and approach him with the box in front of me. “Did somebody order a pizza, half pepperoni?” I say, offering the box to him. His eyes light up, and a smile appears on his weathered visage. He takes the box and thanks me. “You’re welcome. God bless you.” I say as we walk away. I look back and he is tearing into the pizza.

“You’re a good guy.” she says, rubbing my back with her hand. I smile and say, “Movies, arcade games, road trip, pizza, and feed the homeless? I’d say this has been an epic date.” Cherie agrees. We walk hand in hand all the way back to the car.

I know I’m writing about my personal life and the experiences I’m having with women in my life here in the City of Brotherly Love, but I’m not one to kiss and tell. I’m trying to keep this story classy. It was late. Somewhere around 10pm. We made out in the car for a bit. The radio never came on once. Not even when we were on our road trip. We were just enjoying our time together. A friend of mine had asked me recently that when I went on these dates with these women, did I miss them after the date was over? Was there a longing for them. I flatly told him, I sort of enjoyed my time with them, but for the most part I was relieved it was over. I could go back to the batcave, have a drink and a cig and get back to my quiet life. But this girl was different. It’s like we didn’t want the night to end. We would have just sat in her car and made out like a couple of teenagers. There was a point in the night when she just had that dreamy look in her eyes. I could see it and I know I had it too. That feeling is magic and hard to find at my age. But it was late, and she had to drive back to Pottstown. I wanted to be considerate of her time too. She drove me back to Rittenhouse and we said our good nights. More kisses.

We decided that because of our busy schedule this week we couldn’t do a lunch. But we did nail it down for next Saturday. So this is moving forward. I asked that she please text me when she got home to let me know that she arrived safely. She promised she would. I got out of her car, and went into my building.

Wow. That was a 10 hour date. May be a record this early in the game. Feels like a match.

I went into my apartment and turned on some lights. I went back downstairs, and she was gone. I stood on my stoop and lit a cigarette. It tasted glorious. I just wanted to be out in the fresh air and pull on that cig, basking in the afterglow of a perfect day with a lovely charming, woman. I’m having real feelings for this girl. Will it last? Who knows. I’m just going to enjoy this and let the universe unfold as it should. If it works out will she want to get married and have kids, and then it will end like the last three?

Probably. But for now, love is in the air and I breathe it in deeply, and blow it out in a cloud of smoke into the autumn evening.

P.S. I did get that text from Cherie and hour later and she was safe and sound. We agreed the day was epic and amazing. I wished her only sweet dreams that night. Maybe I would dream of her too.

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Cherie – Chapter 2 – First Date – Part I

“How long have you been on Tinder?”

“Two weeks.”

“How many dates have you been on?”

“Just this one.”

“So out of everyone, you chose to drive all the way down from Pottstown in the rain to see me?”

“Yes.”

Cherie sends me a text in the morning to ask whether we are still on for brunch at 2pm. I like that she checked in. Normally I do that. So despite the: “Where is that at?” misstep and the fact that she didn’t just google it on her phone, she’s still on track. Bad grammar, bad manners, and lateness are hard points with me. (Thanks, Dad!) I tell her we’re good to go. That was at 12:30.

I get to Square around 1:30 just to have a drink and chat with the bartender. He makes me a drink I invented for the occasion. The Garden Rose. Sauvignon blanc, with a splash of Hendricks gin and as dash of honey on the rocks. Delish. At 1:40 I get a text: “Bad accident on 76. I’ll just be a few minutes late. Sorry.”

No problem. It’s a rainy Saturday, and anything can happen on the interstates in this city. I tell her to be careful driving and thank her for the update.

At 2:12 I get this text: “Trying to park.” I tell her that I am at a quiet table in the back. Brunch is officially over at 2:30 at Square. They switch over to a bar snacks menu while the kitchen preps for dinner. I remember this exact thing happening the last time I brought someone here for brunch. (See: Katsumi – Church Mess)

It’s now almost 2:30 and still no Cherie. I speak to my server and he checks in with the chef and they agree to hold brunch out for me until 2:40. I hate this. From now on, I vow never to schedule a 2pm brunch here ever again. No one can plan anymore, No one can build in that extra half hour into their trip if something goes wrong. Traffic, accident, weather, construction, detours. Build it into your schedule! But I do take it into account, that I leisurely walked about 5 blocks to get here. I don’t even know where she’s coming from. Since she’s driving I assume West Philly, or University City if she was on 76.

At 2:35 she approaches the table. (Whew!) She’s more attractive in person than in her photos. She has on a short close-fitting leather jacket, and an olive skirt and heels. I stand up of course to greet her. We do the quick perfunctory hug. We sit, and she apologizes for being late. All is forgiven. The server arrives and goes over a few things. I tell her we’re cutting it close and we should order. She goes for the grilled salmon salad. I order the breakfast plate. This will be my first real meal of the day.

A banana, a powerbar and some nuts don’t count as breakfast.

She tells me she struggled to find any parking nearby and based on the hour, she put her car in a nearby lot. She says she just drove down from Pottstown. That’s like 45 minutes away! In the rain too.

Again…all is forgiven. I ask her if she wants anything to drink, and she says she’s fine. While waiting for her, the server brought me a little bread with whipped herb butter so I’m good. I have my second drink in front of me. So I’m more than good. We engage in some getting to know you exchange. She was a little shy and quiet at first but then I quickly put her at ease with my witty repartee.

She’s originally from California. Military brat. Lived all over. Her Dad was a career military guy in the Navy. She has an older brother who’s also a Navy guy. His work is classified. He works in military intelligence. She has a younger sister who is two years behind her and is still a bit of a brat. I give her my family stats as well.

Brunch is served and everything looks great. I’m glad she’s impressed. As I said, the food and service here is wonderful. We dive a little deeper into our conversation. She goes to Temple and is majoring in Neuroscience. She’d like to work with children. So she would use her degree to help child neurological disorders. She also works 2 jobs. One at a hospital and the other at a pediatrician’s office. So not only is she getting her degree she’s already working in her field of endeavor.

I’m impressed.

She says she has a 6-year-old son. I do the math in my head. I’m normally not good at math but for some reason when it comes to age of consent numbers I’m lightning. That means she got pregnant at 19 and had her son at 20. She says she never married her son’s father. But they were together for 8 years. She said he was in his thirties when they met. I asked her how a 30 something year old meets a teenage girl. Not that I was fishing for tips.

“Was he driving by the High School one day and it was raining and you missed the bus?”

She laughed and said that she was shooting pool in a bar and so was he. I told her my last two girlfriends were 27 when I started dating them. She asked if I always date younger, and I told her I don’t go after women that age. “It just happens.” Which, for once is not a bold-faced lie. Cherie says she always liked older men. At that moment I am smiling inside because this is perfect. She likes older men, I like younger women. Universe is unfolding!

I ask her what happened to the relationship after 8 years. She said they became complacent. He finally cheated on her, she found out and was done with him. I asked her how long had they been done. She said 2 years. As of this writing I just realized something. If she is now 26 years old and the relationship has been over for 2 years, was she 16 going on 17 when he met her?  I can’t think about that right now.

I didn’t ask if he was a white or a black guy. I did ask where her son was right now. She said he was staying with his grandmother.

“Is your Mom watching him?”

She said no, her ex’s mother was watching him. I asked whether the boy’s father was a presence in his son’s life. She said some, but not enough.

That fucker. Children don’t ask to come here. We need to take good care of them. That’s a fact that I am not the slightest bit fickle about.

I asked if he had taken up with another younger woman. She said, that he was in his 40’s now and has a woman his own age in his life. Interesting.

Cherie also told me that she is bisexual. (Noted!)

She said when she was younger and in the clubs, she gravitated more to being with women. But in real life she is firmly ensconced in men. I told her I understood. There’s no black and white/straight or gay in this world. There is a vast grey area in between. Let’s face it, most girls I know are 3 martinis away from kissing another girl.

Just because I’ve installed a few ceiling fans in my life, doesn’t necessarily make me an electrician.

This is all very interesting conversation to me.

We’re getting along really well. We’re chatting, laughing, and I’m happy. I can feel a connection. Out of all of the dates I have been on in the last 6 months, this is by far the best one. I’m not thinking things like: This is going well. She’s a nice woman. She’s age appropriate. This is what I should be doing at my age.

Fuck that. The heart wants what it wants.

I ask her how has her experience been on Tinder. She says she was told about it by a friend, and she decided to check it out. She says she doesn’t do much with social media because she’s too busy and doesn’t care to see what everybody is doing.

Same!

She said at first she didn’t get all of the swiping. I ask her if she has been inundated by matches. She says yes, but she hasn’t been really interested. I ask her how long she’s been on Tinder.

“Two weeks.”

“How many dates have you been on?”

“Just this one.”

“So out of everyone, you chose to drive all the way down from Pottstown in the rain to see me?”

“Yes.”

We’re finished and they clear the plates. The bill comes and I pay it. Okay, for the record, asked her out. This is her first date on Tinder and I’m it. I really like her and she’s in my wheelhouse. I want to pay this time. This is my thing. I like her. I want her. If it works out and we start going out exclusively, you know in a few years she’ll want more kids and it’ll be over. Just like the last 3 relationships I’ve been in. So I’m not getting too worked up about this lady just yet.

Tune in two weeks from now for the amazing conclusion!

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Kim – 2016 – The Animator – Part 2

“I liked her. She’s pretty, funny and smart. She’s like a hot Margret Cho. Lovely hair. Luxurious dark brown tresses. She’s wearing a blue dress and fish nets and cool little boots. So I approve.”

She was on time for lunch. She looks good. A bit thick, but forgivable if she’s as interesting as she seems in her profile.

We meet at one of my favorite lunch spots, Misconduct at 18th and JFK. She’s excited about it. She texts too much for a woman her age. Seems juvenile and desperate, but I think that’s an Asian thing.

I liked her. She’s pretty, funny and smart.  She’s like a hot Margret Cho. Lovely hair. Luxurious dark brown tresses.  She’s wearing a blue dress and fish nets and cool little boots. So I approve.

Here’s the intel I gathered from her over chicken tenders and sliders.

She has her own animation studio located in Langhorne, PA.  She specializes in all types of animation, and is currently creating 2d, 3d, and flash animation, motion graphics and graphic design for various clients, ranging from small businesses to Hollywood studios, media companies, and pharmaceutical companies around the world.
A little bit of background on her…. When living out in L.A, she worked in Children’s TV for Cartoon Network as an Art Director, Animator, Storyboard Artist, and Character Designer for popular TV Shows (“Dexter’s Lab” and “Power Puff Girls”).  Her own pilot appeared on CN, was optioned by Disney, and was critically acclaimed.  Once moving back East, she moved into Commercial Animation as the Creative Director for a company in 3D Pharmaceutical Animation, and then Creative Director and head of Marketing and Interactive Design for a Clothing Manufacturer.  She started her company to continue with her passion for all types of Animation.

The premise of the show she created is roughly based on her life as a Korean adoptee; the main character had previously been featured a comic strip by her.  The pilot aired in August 17, 2001 on the network as part of their Big Pick competition, a marathon of ten pilots with viewers selecting one to be produced for the network’s fall 2002 season. The series lost second place to Codename: Kids Next Door.

The pilot was created by she and her husband who is also a Korean adoptee. Kim, an adoptee of American-Jewish parents, based the main character on her life experiences as an immigrant. In years prior to making the pilot, she had started a nonprofit organization for helping adopted children locate their biological parents. Her husband felt much of the impetus for the pilot came while searching for his birth family in Korea. However, Kim later remarked that the pilot “had nothing to do with” her life.

The pilot was optioned by The Walt Disney Company  before being turned down. Cartoon Network first approached Dunn in Los Angeles, then a comic shop employee who had just moved in. The network, impressed by her work in independent comics which had spread through word of mouth, landed her a job at Cartoon Network Studios, and a few years later, she and her husband produced the pilot.

 

This all seems amazing but why is she in PA nad not L.A?

She created all of this little greatness with her husband in L.A. He apparently banged his assistant while they were married. Cheated on her with her for a while. Got said assistant pregnant.  Kim was already pregnant with a daughter. Kim divorces him and moves back to PA to be around family to raise her little daughter. Career in ruins. Pilot’s a fail. Doesn’t get picked up.

Pregnant assistant has an abortion and leaves Kim’s husband. (Piece of shit) He’s now remarried and has some other kids. Don’t know what the child support number on all that is but I’m sure its steep.

Red flags are waving proud at this lunch but I’ll order an Old Fashioned to steady the nerves.

That was 13 years ago and now she is living here in PA with her daughter. Apparently the kid is amazing and I’m hearing nothing but good things, so as a parent I’m always jubilant about that kind of success.

She said her 13-year-old recently just got boobs but still looks like a little girl. My dark side is struggling with the evil here but I hold fast as a parent and don’t fall into an Asian human trafficking fantasy. I wish Kim hadn’t told me that shit on a first date. It’s just a little weird.

Her daughter is an amazing child who is an A student and a pianist. Dad is out of the picture. I guess that POS is still in L.A. and I can’t believe he isn’t even a presence in his daughter’s life, because even when I felt like I was on my ass I saw Lorelei every other weekend.

Kim hates what’s she’s doing right now. It’s probably some animation/graphic design bullshit because she keeps asking me if we need anything like that for the gym we’re opening. It sounds like she’s on her ass.

(Red flags are still waving proudly in the May afternoon sun outside Misconduct)

We leave the restaurant. The lunch has been good. I walk her to the car park and give her a kiss. She’s hesitant because there is a fat black woman sitting in the lobby of the check out. I don’t care. I wanted to kiss her. I like her.

Sort of.

 

After the date, we texted over the next few days.

“Morning!”

Loves to text.

“Hi Kim! How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Doing well. Just going to work. I have some stuff to do this weekend with friends and the business.” (Bold Faced Lie)

“Is there anything that I can do to help with the business? I can always use extra work if you’re comfortable with that.”

(Sounds like she’s out of work)

“But we could meet up again next week for lunch and/or I was thinking movies next weekend? Sorry we’re on different subjects here. How could I help?”

I’m trying to make a second date. Kim is obviously looking for a meal ticket.

“Yeah! That would be fun! Sorry! Promotional video for your online marketing video efforts, maybe working at the tanning salon?”

Now it’s just nuts. I went on one date with this woman. I get her trying to sell me some shit. I’ve been in sales since the 80’s. Suck it. But work at the salon? We have people for that. How fucked are you in your life?

(This is starting to sound like that chick that tried to sell me Amway on a date!)

“We have a video that’s running on a loop monitor in the salon. We’re all staffed up at the salon. (Bold faced lie, Trish is fucking history) I was thinking of us hitting Mac Mart     (Awesome mac and cheese joint in Rittenhouse where I know the owners.)

“Oooh Mac Mart. Sure!”

A few days later…

“What are you up to?”

“Sorry. Busy weekend with the sisters and daughter! (Bold faced lie) How are you? Hope yours was good despite the rain.”

“Yeah you don’t text much?”

“No.”

WTF? I’m an adult and I don’t need to be constantly texting anyone. It’s fucking annoying!

“I was kind of sick but it was nice.”

“When I’m with family I’m a bit off the grid. (True. But in this case, a Bold faced lie)

“Sick? What happened?”

“My throat hurt, coughing but I’m doing ok.)

This courtship is amazing romance.

“How are things otherwise?” (Being nice)

Good. (Sends me some drawing of her and her daughter. It looks like daughter drew it and it sucks)

“So Mac Mart?”

I figured one last-ditch effort just to see.

“Oooh You’re not going to come out to me!”

Here we go…

“Great drawing of you and your daughter.” (Bold Faced… oh fuck it.)

“I mean are you ever leaving the city?”

This is when Rittenhouse Bubble phicklephille kicked in.

“What’s the point? I could rent a car or do a Zip car to come see you no problem.”

“Oh. Well then it was nice knowing you.”

(Really, washed up animator who would work in a tanning salon?)

“Oh ok.”

“If you can’t try to see me… Then.”

 

And that was it. I never heard from Kim again.

Do I care? Not in the slightest. But I think we could have had some fun going to see some films at the Ritz.

*YAWN

Onward we go!

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Kim – 2016 – The Animator – Part 1

“Looking for: Single Men, near me, ages 36 – 50 for short & long-term dating and new friends.”

I met Kim on OkCupid. She had an interesting profile and we matched. She reached out to me first. I told her I had read her profile and she seemed fascinating and fun.

“Well then let’s meet up and see.”

“Sounds good. May I have your number?”

We exchanged numbers and that was that. It happened that quickly.

So I set up a lunch date and we meet up at Misconduct Tavern.

Here is her profile on OkCupid:

 

My Self Summary

Animator who likes most music. I can’t see likes.

What I’m doing with my life

Designing stuff and trying to make things nicer in the world.

 

I’m really good at

Feeding everybody

 

Favorite books movies shows music and food

I love comic books, indie stuff, wonder woman stuff, software manuals, Dexter, Curb your Enthusiasm, SNL  30 Rock, Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, New Girl, Shameless. Hannibal, Dark Crystal, Double Indemnity, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Rosemary’s Baby, Harold and Maude.

 

Music. I’m a vinyl collector. Old jazz, soundtracks well almost everything. Sometimes just for the album art, XTC,  Nina Simone, Iron and Wine, Echo and the Bunnymen, Depeche Mode, New Order, Morrissey, Donovan, Dylan, Lennon, every kind of music on my iPod, I am open to checking out any kind of music.

(Sounds great, right? But not really.)

Thai, Korean, Vietnamese, sushi, Indian, Ethiopian, seafood, pizza, edibles, mostly seafood. No pineapples or mango – I’m very allergic.

Six things I could never do without

Communication

Good stories

Music

Something to draw and write with

Delicious things

I spend a lot of time thinking about

Work, animation, comics, software love

On a typical friday night I am

Watching a movie (out or at home) trying a new restaurant or revisiting favorites, hanging out with friends. I love to be at home if I had someone special to spend time with.

you should message me if

You’re not looking for benefits or games. Serious inquiries only. Laughter often required.

Looking for: Single Men, near me, ages 36 – 50 for short & long-term dating and new friends.

 

And there is her profile. She seems nice, and I want to meet her!

Tune in tomorrow and I’ll tell you how our first date went!

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Julia – 2016 – Snack Girl

“I’m sorry I can’t see u today I feel not good I got diarrhea.”

I matched this cute kitty kat on the dating site, Ok Cupid. Please excuse any grammatical errors. They are her words not mine. Here is her profile:

Julia

30 – Philadelphia 39% match on ok cupid

Straight, Woman, Single, 4’11”

My self summary

I really want to have serious relationship at this time. cuz I don’t have time for playing the game..I’m not interested with multiple dating.. if u want to know to know about me pleaseee make sure u already clear with your past relationship. im sensitive person too. I like the guy who can talk more open & honest event that’s hurt (need to have respect each other)

I don’t like mommy boy I like the guy who is mature & independent (cuz I’m independent too) I have full-time job I work mon – fri 2- 11pm. I have house… I don’t have drivers license.

What I’m doing with my life

Working, relaxing, snacking etc

I’m really good at

Negotiations

Six things I could never do without

Phone

Snack

Money

Friends

Alarm

Key

On a typical friday night I am

I like stay at home at usually … snacking, watching TV etc.  But if my friends asking to hang ut it’s ok too depends on my mood that time,

You should message me if

If u ready to have serious relationship. NO ATHEIST & independent.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

So that’s her profile.

She certainly likes her snacks, right? If I bring enough snacks and a bible on the first date, do you think I’ll get lucky?

Here’s how our first conversation on the site went. It’s over several days and there are huge gaps of time between daily texts.

April 8

Me: Hello! It’s a match!

Her: Hi

April 10

Me: How was your weekend? I really like what you said in your profile. (A bold-faced lie. I don’t give a shit. She’s hot. But I know she’ll like that I read it.)

Her: My weekends its ok .. what I said make u interested.

Me: Would you like to meet up?

Her: ok no problem

April 11

Me: When can we meet? May I have your number?

Her: Next Sunday?

Her: (Gives me her number)

Me: I could do Sunday after 4pm.

Me: (Gives her my number)

Her: Sunday 23

Me: Ok

(That’s two weeks away)

(So normally once the phone numbers are exchanged both parties switch to just texting each other to make a plan to meet and no longer communicate on the dating site. Makes sense, right?)

(So I text her on her phone.)

April 11

Me: Hello!

Her: Hi

Me: Hi, I’m looking forward to meeting you on the 23rd.

Her: ok

April 12

(For some reason she writes me again on the dating site)

Her: U not sleepy yet

Me: How are you? I texted you

Her: Good thanks… hbu

April 13

Me: I’m doing great. But we have each other’s numbers. Shouldn’t we just text?

(Then it switches back to regular phone texting)

Me: Hello I just saw your post on Ok Cupid early this morning. Couldn’t sleep?

Me: Hello!

April 21

Me: Hello. Are we meeting up Sunday after 4?

Her: Who is this?

(How the fuck did that happen in a week?)

Me: It’s (My name) from Ok Cupid

Her: Can u send me pic please

(Now it’s getting weird)

Me: (Send her 2 photos of me)

Her: I’m sorry this sunday I can’t because I think u cancel cuz you not text me again.

(I don’t need to be in constant text/touch with anyone once I’ve made solid plans with them. We’re adults for goodness sake!)

Me: Ok. But you remember me now? How about this coming week?

Her: Oh yes u said u live in ritten house right

(Again. Sorry about her bad grammar)

Me: Yes. Are you still interested?

Her: ok next sunday morning 12 its ok?

Me: I work on Sundays till 4. I can do lunch during the week or Saturday anytime or Sunday after 4, or Monday night or Wednesday night.

Her: Monday morning?

Me: Ok. Can we meet in center city?

Her: Yes

Me: Lovely. What time?

Her: 11/12?

Me: Ok. so lunch! Do you have any dietary limitations?

Her: No.

Me: Any favorite foods?

Her: (Smiley face) We can go to simple coffee shop.

(I has hoping she’d say she wanted to go to a Snack Bar!!!!!)

Me: Ok

Yesterday

Me: Ok, so what time tomorrow and do you have a coffee shop you prefer?

Her: Oh yes. 12

Me: Is there a coffee shop you prefer?

Her: I prefer around center city.

Me: Meet me at The Last Drop Coffee Shop at 13th and Pine at 12 noon tomorrow.

Her: Ok

Me: Looking forward to meeting you

Today

Her: (My Name) I’m sorry I can’t see u today I feel not good I got diarrhea.

(Who plays that card before a first date? Do you think it’s from eating all the damn snacks?)

Me: Oh dear! I’m so sorry. I hope you feel better.

Her: Thank u… don’t know why I eat alot of fruit & yogurt last night … I try not eat rice.

(Gross!)

Me: I hope you’re feeling better!

Her: Thank u

Me: Is there another day you’d like to meet up this week? Tomorrow? Wednesday?

Her: I’m not sure for Wednesday cuz I need go to home depo in morning time my house have little bit construction stuff.

Me: Well, I’m out-of-town Thurs – Sun.

Her: its ok don’t worry about that


 

So for now I will end this chapter here. Hopefully I can get a first date with her even though she doesn’t seem all that bright. But beauty is forgivable and I will keep trying to make this happen. But so far it’s been brutal just trying to communicate with this woman so it may already be a fail.

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Cherie – Chapter 1 – Love At First Swipe

“She has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?”

I was literally about to begin writing this, and I just got a text from Cherie, so I hope that means something. I’ve responded back with “You must be psychic! I was just thinking about you.” (I was thinking about her because I was just about to write the first half of this very chapter.)

We swiped right on each other on Tinder. Cherie is a 26-year-old attractive, fit, black woman whose zodiac sign is Scorpio. When we first connected I sent her a simple, hello. She got back to me and said she was doing well, but she sitting in a boring class. She’s apparently studying developmental neuroscience. Once the small talk and pleasantries were dismissed, I asked her my standard question. “What prompted you to swipe right on my profile?”

She expressed that she liked the things I wrote in my bio. She said she likes to laugh and dine out, and like me, she’s a good listener. That’s pretty standard fare so far. Everybody likes to laugh and go out to dinner.

I truly hope that she’s a good listener, because I like to talk.

Then she asked me the same question. I told her that she seemed like an intelligent person who wanted to do big things. I really just read her brief profile about her being a neuroscience and psychology major, that had high dreams and aspirations, and spun it back to her in my own words.

I’ve heard from several of the women I’ve spoken to on Tinder that many times when they connect with someone, there is this long period of texting. Sometimes it doesn’t materialize into anything. Since I’ve operated in the real world my whole life, I like to establish things soon, and try to get a meeting. Sound like I’m in sales? I am. Depending on the client you always want to close as soon as possible. Keeps your numbers up and your pipeline full. So I move right in and ask her if she’s like to meet up for a drink sometime.

She thanks me for the compliment and agrees she has big dreams. (I know, I read it on your profile.) She says that having a drink with me sounds like a great idea. That was fast. My next response was positive affirmation and my cell number. She says she’ll send me a text.

Now, that looks like it happened very quickly but it actually didn’t. I was living my life all day, and she was probably in and out of classes and whatever else. That brief and pointed exchange began at 9:45am and ended at 3:30pm. Five and a half hours later! Now I just had to wait to see if she was going to text me.

Within moments she did. We continued our conversation off Tinder. She went on to tell me that she works as a medical assistant at a hospital, and also works at a pediatric office! 2 jobs and school? Wow! I tell her briefly my stuff, and she goes on to say that she loves her jobs because she gets to help people, but they can be stressful. I then hit her with how I get my energy from people and enjoy bringing people together personally and professionally. She likes that, and reveals that she’s a shy person at first but then she opens up after a bit.

I try to get her out for a Wednesday night drink.

I don’t hear from her for the rest of the day. She finally gets back to me and apologizes for the silence. She had a very long day with school and work. She re-affirms that she’d like to meet me for a drink, but she works late on Wednesdays but the weekend is probably better. I tell her I’m free Saturday. She’s available in the afternoon. I lock it down for 2pm Saturday. I tell her I’ll pick the spot. She thinks that sounds great.

That was early in the week. A lot can happen in 5 days. So I ping her Wednesday just to keep the current going. We participate in some light banter about the weather and our days events.

I ask another one of my standards: “What do you like to do when you’re not working or studying?” She likes movies, dining out and dancing, etc. I tell her I’m a former musician and not much of a dancer, but love movies and dining out too. I want to know what kind of movies she likes because that would be a splendid second date.

She likes scary movies and thrillers. I tell her I like the same. (I actually like a myriad of film genres but for this exchange, liking the same thing she likes works) I follow with “Let’s go to the movies together soon!” See what I did there?  I’m actually setting up a second date with a woman I haven’t even met for the first time yet. I’m reading her responses. She’s smart. I don’t ask or suggest, I simply say: “Let’s go see a movie together soon.” She responds with, “That sounds like a great idea. Notice how she uses the word “Sounds?” She is a good listener like she said. It reminds me of a thing that my ex-girlfriend Michelle does when I talk to her. She stays attentive to what I’m saying and usually mirrors my words back to me in affirmation. I like that Cherie is doing the same thing. Michelle does that all the time. (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) I love Michelle for that. and she doesn’t even know about her gift. (Ordoes she?)

Cherie says she hasn’t seen too many commercials for scary movies lately. I tell her I’ll look into it. She responds that she thinks that’s nice. I like her manners already. I just hope that if I take her to a scary movie she doesn’t start yelling things like: “Don’t go in there!” or “Get out the house, fool!”

I’m going to go ahead and apologize to everyone reading this in advance for that last bit.

It’s getting late. As a gentle reminder, I tell her she seems really cool, and that I’m really looking forward to meeting her on Saturday.

Crickets.

But at 7:30 the next morning I get a mirrored response. “Good Morning. Thanks you seem cool as well. I’m looking forward to meeting you.” I simply respond with a smiley face. Which brings us back to tonight when I began this chapter. As I finish this part she has responded. “Lol, I highly doubt I’m psychic but thanks. It’s a busy but productive day as well.”

The date is supposed to happen on Saturday. We’re supposed to meet for a drink. It’s Thursday and there is some small talk texts leading up to it. I want to keep the embers glowing until we meet. We chat about our days, and what shows we’re watching. I ask her if she is a beer, wine or a cocktail girl. This way I can gauge where we should meet. She says she’s a beer girl. Then she says she doesn’t really like alcohol and then says: “What about you?” I tell her I enjoy an occasional drink socially. (A bold-faced lie) I ask her if she’d rather meet for brunch instead of a drink on Saturday.

She chooses brunch. I ask her if she has any dietary concerns. She says no, but she is a really unhealthy but picky eater, and thanks me for asking and do I have any. I tell her I can eat anything. So I ask her if she has any preferences. She loves seafood and breakfast food. That sounds perfectly fine to me. I thought of several places I could take her, but went with my go to: Square 1682. The staff knows me. The food’s great, and the service is on point. She can have seafood or breakfast food and so can I.

Friday I text her a “Happy Friday” meme around 5pm. I tell her I look forward to meeting her at Square 1682 for brunch Saturday at 2pm.

She replies: “Where is that at?” I wanted to reply: “I keep forgetting that I am the only one on Earth with iPhone technology because I came from the future, and I also don’t end my sentences with prepositions!” Of course I don’t.

But I do say: “Here, let me google that for you.” And send her a screenshot of Square 1682’s webpage from my phone. She thanks me like nothing happened, because to her, technically nothing did. She closes with: “I’m looking forward to meeting you too.” (Redeemed)

So far just texting her, I like this chick. I’m really looking forward to meeting her Saturday. She seems really sweet. I just pray that she isn’t just meeting with me for free food and drinks. I mean, that could happen. It’s happened before. She is a student. But she has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Azina – 2016 – International Phone Girl

The exchange rate of the USD to their pesos is huge. $60 of our dollars is like $300 of their dollars. I could live like a king down there. But who am I kidding? I don’t even like leaving my neighborhood.

This is a little bit of an odd story. A year or so ago I started chatting with this girl on Facebook Messenger. I think it just started with her saying hello to me. I was bored and alone and started chatting with her.

She lives in the Philippines. She’s attractive and was around 27 years old at the time. (This is one of the few times I’ve used the person’s actual photos)

I’ve chatted with women in different countries on Facebook over the years. No big deal. No mail order bride stuff, just talking to people and finding out about their lives and their culture.

I once chatted with a girl in Brazil for over a year or two. Beautiful lady. I’d write about her, but it was years ago, and let’s face it. It’s just like having a pen pal that you’re never going to meet so what’s the point?

Anyway I was chatting with Azina for a while and after a couple of weeks she starts telling me personal things.

Like how she hasn’t had sex in over 5 years and she wants to see me on FaceTime and she wants us to be together, etc. I know that’s not happening. Although the exchange rate of the USD to their pesos is huge. $60 of our dollars is like $300 of their dollars. I could live like a king down there. But do I really want to even leave Rittenhouse and go to Old City here in Philly? Not really. So I can’t see myself flying to the Philippines for anybody. Especially a stranger I’ve never met.

Apparently you can call people and do FaceTime through Facebook messenger. Because one night I’m in bed and my phone rings and it’s not my normal ringtone (It’s So Easy , by Guns n’ Roses is my ringtone.) This ring is just like a regular phone ringing. I was still awake so I look at it and it’s Azina!

So I answer it and I can see her. She doesn’t say much but I’m just stunned I’m doing FaceTime with another person halfway across the planet. The technology these days!

But then she does something I didn’t expect. She takes her shirt off. She’s pretty busty and I was shocked.

I haven’t requested or promised her anything. I think this lady took a liking to me and was just horny. Plus, I think she felt safe in this relationship. She can see me and I can see her and we can do things but nobody is touching anybody.

I’ve said this before: This is a dating blog, not a sex blog. So things were done and she’s sent me photos, and let’s just say I’ve seen EVERYTHING there is to see about sweet Azina.

Again, I never asked her to do any of these things, but it was pretty hot. We had some sexy sessions there for a month or so and then she just faded away. The texting got less and the calls became less frequent.

Hopefully she’s found love on her own little island. I guess we’re all sort of on our own little islands.

Check her out. There’s some pics of her below.

Cute, right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly      Facebook: phicklephilly