Tales of Rock – David Bowie and the 15-Year-Old Girls

The surprise news of David Bowie passing Sunday night caught everyone off guard, and there has been a massive outpouring of emotion and support for a man whose music and art touched many (New Times has published two such pieces). Those tributes are well-deserved. Bowie leaves behind an incredibly diverse and impressive body of work, and he has inspired millions. David Bowie was many things — rock ‘n’ roll hero, queer icon, fashion superstar, a man unafraid to make daring artistic choices. He was also the type of man who, in his mid-20s, allegedly would sleep with two girls not old enough to drive themselves to his hotel.

Consider the story of Lori Maddox and her friend, Sable Starr.

In her teens, Maddox (often spelled “Mattix”) was known as Lori Lightning, a barely post-pubescent model who became known as a groupie in Los Angeles’ Sunset Strip nightclub scene. Raised by a single working mother with little time to care for Maddox, Maddox befriended a girl her own age, Sable Starr, and the two would eventually go on to party with just about every major rock star that came through LA. Most famously, Led Zeppelin’s Jimmy Page kept Maddox as a hidden girlfriend for two years while she was underage.

But before Page, there was David Bowie.

Maddox has repeatedly said in interviews that she met Bowie as a young teen and he asked her up to his hotel room. She was 14, and Bowie was in his mid-20s. Afraid, she declined. But five months later Bowie again propositioned her, and she and Starr went to his room.

Maddox has since told the story several times, including once for a VH1 documentary that curiously omitted her age at the time, but she most succinctly told it to Thrillist just a few months ago.

Next time Bowie was in town, though, maybe five months later, I got a call at home from his bodyguard, a huge black guy named Stuey. He told me that David wanted to take me to dinner. Obviously, I had no homework that night. Fuck homework. I wasn’t spending a lot of time at school anyway. I said that I would like to go but that I wanted to bring my friend Sable. She was dying to fuck Bowie. I figured that she would sleep with him while I got to hang out and have fun.

So the two girls went to Bowie’s hotel, where, according to Maddox, she had sex with Bowie, which later turned into a threesome with Sable.

We got to the Beverly Hilton and all went up to Bowie’s enormous suite. I found myself more and more fascinated by him. He was beautiful and clever and poised. I was incredibly turned on. Bowie excused himself and left us in this big living room with white shag carpeting and floor-to-ceiling windows. Stuey brought out Champagne and hash. We were getting stoned when, all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens and there is Bowie in this fucking beautiful red and orange and yellow kimono.

He focused his famously two-colored eyes on me and said, “Lori, darling, can you come with me?” Sable looked like she wanted to murder me. He walked me through his bedroom and into the bathroom, where he dropped his kimono. He got into the tub, already filled with water, and asked me to wash him. Of course I did. Then he escorted me into the bedroom, gently took off my clothes, and de-virginized me.
Two hours later, I went to check on Sable. She was all fucked up in the living room, walking around, fogging up windows and writing, “I want to fuck David.” I told him what she was doing and that I felt so bad. Bowie said, “Well, darling, bring her in.” That night I lost my virginity and had my first threesome. The next morning, there was banging on the door and it was fucking [Bowie’s wife] Angie. I was terrified of her. David said not to worry about it. They were already at the point where they had separate rooms. She probably knew he’d be in there with girls… or boys. He was totally bisexual. I saw David many times after that, for the next 10 years, and it was always great.

So far as I could find, Bowie has neither confirmed nor denied Maddox’s account of that night, and there don’t seem to be any pictures of Bowie and Maddox. That said, Maddox’s relationship with Page, which — again — began when she was 15, is universally accepted as fact by now. Rolling Stone even confirmed it. Getty Images has archived photos in which Page drapes an arm around an obviously juvenile Maddox.

And to be fair, Maddox has not once indicated that she found the experience traumatic, though the encounter under today’s laws would be considered statutory rape. Quite the contrary, in interviews in the past few years, Maddox seems joyous retelling the story. Thrillist asked her point-blank if she saw any problem with how Bowie, a powerful older man supplying young teens with drugs and alcohol, slept with her that night.

“I was an innocent girl, but the way it happened was so beautiful,” she replied. “I remember him looking like God and having me over a table. Who wouldn’t want to lose their virginity to David Bowie?”

She later added, “I feel like I was very present. I saw the greatest music ever. I got to hang out with some of the most amazing, most beautiful, most charismatic men in the world. I went to concerts in limos with police escorts. Am I going to regret this? No.”

Of course, statutory rape laws are in place for a reason. And it’s up to Maddox to define whether her sexual encounter with Bowie was traumatic. Many have dismissed Page’s and Bowie’s actions as par for the course for famous rock stars, dirty misdeeds overshadowed by their contributions to the pop zeitgeist. Many are crediting Bowie’s being an androgynous role model with saving the lives of queer children worldwide. Statutory rape seems destined to be a footnote in Bowie’s legacy, because maybe that’s how we as a society evaluate our famous people: We don’t let singular acts overwhelm the legacy. We measure people’s value by what they contribute to society, and if a man happens to act unethically on the way to selling millions of records and being an overwhelmingly positive force in the lives of millions, so be it.

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly Facebook: phicklephilly

Advertisements

Sun Stories – Mike – Really Dude?

We hired a girl named Caitlin to take Jill’s shifts. She’s a nice girl and does a good job, but she runs track and field at college and her schedule for practices is changing so we lost her after a few weeks.

Achilles meets this guy Mike. He came into the salon to tan one day. He’s a mountain of a man. Admits to Achilles that he uses steroids to get that huge.

Achilles is chatting with him about the fitness center we’re opening soon and Mike tells him he’s a certified personal trainer. So Achilles hires him to work at the salon, and when the gym opens he can work there.

Perfect. A muscle dude that said he’d be here to run the classes and could make some real income from the personal training. People pay big bucks for that stuff. This is a great opportunity for Mike.

I stop in one Saturday just to escape the heat. I chat a bit with Mike and he seems like a really nice guy. I even spoke to him about a business opportunity I was thinking about and he gave me good advice having had experience in a similar business. So all good.

Everything seems to be going well. We’ve recovered nicely after Trish’s cocaine arrest, Jill’s alcoholic meltdown, and Caitlin’s track re-scheduling.

But two weeks later, Achilles calls me. “I’m going to have to fire, Mike.”

“What happened?”

“He’s stealing money from me.”

“Stealing?”

“Yea. There’s almost no cash transactions on the nights he works and I’m just starting to see a pattern. I don’t think he knows the level at which we can track everything on the computer.”

“Aww dude. I’m sorry. We just can’t catch a break lately.”

“I know. Come in and we’ll have lunch today and figure out what to do.”

The next day when confronted with the crime, of course Mike denied any wrong doing to the point where Achilles almost believed him. But once Achilles dug deeper and examined all of the records in the system there was no doubt in his mind that Mike had been skimming cash from the register.

I hear that steroids are expensive.

Anyway, we fired his thieving ass and banned him from ever coming to the salon again.

Guess who’s working all the shifts everyday for a while?

That’s right! Me. At least Achilles and I know that the people who work here are trustworthy and dependable. Because it’s down to the two of us!

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly        Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Sun Stories: Jill – Trish’s Replacement – Hired

Trish lasted almost a year here at the salon. But she’s so unstable she can’t do the job anymore. I hope she gets the professional help she needs to deal with her mental psychosis.

We end up hiring Jill to work at the salon. At this point Achilles doesn’t know about the incident with Trish. Jill has industry experience and catches on quickly and is happy to have a job. She’s sweet to the customers and is up for any task in the salon. Being a former client, she’s happy to now enjoy the benefits of free tanning!

I really get to know her and she seems to have had a difficult life based on some bad decisions. I also discover that she’s had some real problems with alcohol. She’s currently living in a halfway house with some other women in recovery. I don’t know what she did to get there but at least she’s trying to get better.

Halfway Houses are transitional living places for those in recovery from drugs or alcohol. In some states, because of legal requirements, the term “sober living house” is used. Some people go to halfway houses from a treatment center, prison, or a homeless situation, while others go there to be in a sober and clean environment to begin the recovery process. Some residents are in halfway houses due to court orders.

Most halfway houses require residents to pass breathalyzer and drug screening tests as they aren’t equipped to deal with withdrawal symptoms from drugs or the DT’s (Delirium tremens, which are associated with severe alcohol withdrawal). If you can’t pass these tests, a treatment center might be your best option.

 

How a Halfway House is Managed

Many halfway houses are run by people who themselves were at one time a halfway house resident. The houses accommodate either men or women.

Most people who don’t seek recovery from alcohol or drugs will end up on “skid row,” in jail, an insane asylum, or dead. If you are concerned about a friend or family member, an intervention can be the best help for them if they’re not yet in recovery. The good news is that 85% of interventions that are properly carried out result in the person seeking some kind of help. Most interventions carried out without help from people well versed in addiction fail.

 

Determining the Primary Addiction

In seeking recovery from drugs or alcohol, it is important to identify which is the primary addiction — alcohol or drugs. Due to economics, halfway houses are set up to house both alcoholics and drug addicts. In order to obtain optimal results, the person in recovery should focus on either the program of Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous, depending on what the primary addiction is. A person who is addicted to alcohol will relate better to AA and the person addicted primarily to drugs will relate better to fellow drug addicts.

 

How to Choose a Halfway House

In choosing a Halfway House, ask around local AA or NA meetings about those with good reputations, or check with a respected treatment center. Also, choose one that is reasonably near the meetings you will be attending. Most halfway houses accommodate residents until 6 months to a year or two of continuous sobriety or clean time. Houses that have a range or recovery time for people currently residing at the house, such as someone with one month, 90 days, and 6 months are preferable to one with all residents with under 30 days in recovery. Also, those with a live-in manager are generally better choices. Some houses have a democratic process, in which the residents choose who will be coordinator or manager.

I hope everything works out with Jill on our team!

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly        Facebook: phicklephilly   Twitter: @phicklephilly

Sun Stories: Trish – Crash and Burn

When we last left our hero he was forced to go in and run the salon after Trish simply didn’t show up for work. He had plans with Cherie after 3pm that day and needed to do some chores to prepare for her arrival. But Because of Trish’s disappearing act, he now had to change his plans. He was working at the salon when suddenly Trish burst through the front door.

“I’m so sorry…”

She’s visibly upset on the verge of tears. She runs to me and hugs me.

“What happened?”

“I was arrested last night.”

“What? How? Why?”

“Well, I’ve been feeling kind of fucked up lately in my life. I used to do a lot of coke when I was in college and I just felt like I needed a lift to do some artwork I was working on.”

(Sounds like my buddy, Johnny R. He has all of these thoughts in his head but feels like he needs to drink, do coke and/or do some Adderall to put pen to page. When in reality, he’s not much different than Trish. You don’t need any of that shit to create. You just need to create everyday. But neither of them can focus long enough to make anything of any significant value because they don’t do it consistently. Simple as that.)

“So what did you do?”

I called this hot black guy I met at Ray’s Birthday Bar a few weeks ago. I asked him if he had anything and he said come down to where he was. Normally I would ask the person to deliver it to my house so I didn’t have to go somewhere that I’m unfamiliar with.”

“So then what happened and why did you break your rule?”

“Because he was really good looking.”

“Ahh… Trish yields to beauty! I can relate. So then what?”

“I ride my bike down to where he is and he tells me he has to go in some bar and get it. He asks me to come in but I tell him I’ll wait outside. After a bit, he comes out and we make the exchange.”

“So what happened next?”

“He goes back inside the bar and I start pedaling home on my bike and some guy gets out of his car and tells me to stop.”

“Was he dressed like a policeman?”

“No. But you could tell he was a cop. You just know. I’m like… What the fuck? The dude shows me his badge and they place me under arrest for conspiracy to commit a crime and possession of an illegal controlled substance.

“Whoa…”

“Yea, they also pinch the dude I bought it from. Apparently it’s his second offense so he’ll probably get sent up the river for three to five.”

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on some TV cop show?”

“So that’s where I’ve been for the last eighteen hours. In the can.”

“That sucks. This was supposed to be your last day here too. I’ve already taken your shift. You’re probably in no shape to work today.”

“Yea. Is it okay if I just hang out and help a bit?”

“Sure.”

“Then I’m going to go get my bike. I’ll probably UBER down to South Philly later and retrieve it… if it’s still there.”

So Trish cleaned a few beds, and later left to get her bicycle. She returned saying that she was happy the bike hadn’t been stolen or vandalized and that this had been a wake up call for her. She did some sweeping at the end of the shift and she an I walked back to our building in Rittenhouse.

I felt bad for Trish, although Achilles would later simply call her an asshole or a crackhead for not showing up for her shift and not calling or texting. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time Friday night. Think of how much cocaine was bought and sold and consumed last night in this city. She hadn’t bought coke since she was in college. Here she was at nearly 28 years old and gets pinched the first time she tries to get some again.

She took several Saturday’s off and I covered her shifts when she was shooting a pilot for a TV show. It was supposed to be a reality show about hot girls searching for the paranormal in Gettysburg, PA. That sounds like a load of shit, but if Trish were on a show and she was wearing hot outfits, I’d watch it.

But the pilot got made and the actors never got paid, and to me it was a waste of time. The purveyors got their pilot done and got free help to be in it. They will shop it around to some networks and if it never gets picked up that’ll be the end of it. Trish never sees a dime and is actually out more money because she took time off from work and the costs associated with getting to and from Gettysburg.

Now she’ll have a criminal record. I’m sure for a first offense she’ll get a slap on the hand, a fine, and have to take some NA classes but that’ll be it. Maybe she can even get it expunged from her record in the future.

Trish didn’t want me to write about this, but it happened. It happened on her very last day at the salon. She blew it with a single bad decision. I’m simply writing about what happened on the day I was supposed to be off and spend time with my beloved. My girlfriend who I never get to see as much as I would like to and had to tell Cherie to push back our union. No, you can’t come and see me at 3pm. I don’t care what arrangements you’ve had to make with your family, your job or your son, because Trish fucked up. But when people make bad decisions they never realize how it will affect the people around them. That’s why they are who they and why they are where they are in their lives. I need to leave those people behind to wallow in their failure.

Trish still can come to the apartment and hang with my daughter, Lorelei, and I’ll be civil. But she fucked me and Achilles and the salon. And for that, we are done with her.

But the saga is not over yet.

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly      Facebook: phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

Sun Stories: Trish – Critical Mass

“Today was supposed to be her last day at the salon and no one knows where she is.”

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen my love, Cherie. But we’re accustomed to that with what our schedules are. We appreciate what little time we can spend together. We make every minute count.

Cherie planned to come down on Saturday around 3pm and stay until 8:30am Sunday morning. I thought this was good, because I could at least have dinner with her or take her out somewhere, before we went back to the bat cave and tore each other to pieces.

I wake up Saturday morning. I stayed up late the night before because I knew it was my first day off in a while and I wanted to sleep in. I could take myself out to a nice breakfast, put some fresh sheets on the bed, prepare my bedroom for the inevitable and run some errands before Cherie arrived at 3pm.

I’m lying in bed and I look at my phone. Achilles had called. Achilles also texted me.

“Do you know if Trish went to work?”

(Okay, Trish is my neighbor who lives in the apartment below me. I got her the job at the salon, but how in the hell am I supposed to know if she went to work today?)

“I’m assuming she did.”

I text Trish. “Hey can you see if I left my charger there? It would be plugged in under the counter.”

(That was just a ruse to see if she was there. I didn’t want her to think I was checking up on her.)

Achilles: “No answer at the salon.”

Me: “Fuck.”

“I’ll head over there now. But I’ll need about 30 minutes.”

I jump out of bed and into the shower. I’m dressed and out the door 30 minutes later. I speed walk over to the salon and when I get there I see four people sitting on the steps and the salon is locked and dark. One of them is the new girl I’ve been training, Jill.

I tell everybody I’m sorry for the today’s delay, but I can get them all in to tan right now. Jill is obviously upset. She had just come in to tan when she saw the place was locked. It’s nearly 1pm now. We’ve lost 2 hours worth of business, and there’s been no word from Trish.

“I was so worried when I texted you and didn’t hear anything.” Jill said.

“I wouldn’t have heard my phone, Jill. I was rushing to get over here to see what happened.”

I get everybody, including Jill, into their respective rooms to tan. I’ve got everything under control. But still no word from Trish. I roll with the notion of what’s happened around in my mind. I no longer consider Trish a friend. I tried that but I can’t take the crazy, so I’ve stopped hanging out with her. But she’s a sweet person and she comes up to the apartment all of the time and hangs out with my daughter, Lorelei. So I decide that whatever circumstances have caused Trish to miss work I’m not going to be angry, because I don’t want it to be weird when she comes over to see my daughter, or worse I don’t want her to feel bad that she can’t come up to the apartment anymore.

Trish has been expressing for the last two months that she’s tired of working in customer service. She’s a 27-year-old graphic artist. I think her own mind is what’s been holding her back from getting and keeping a real job in her field of endeavor. Which is sad. Here you have all of this talent and it’s being squandered on a daily basis. I can actually smell her talent being sledgehammered by the familiar stench of marijuana smoke that I experience everyday as it wafts up through the floor into my apartment. Morning and at night. (So she’s using to simply get through each day instead of for fun. If you want to use to create that’s great, but if you use to just leave the house and deal with life, that’s a problem.

I like to drink. I love alcohol. But I do it at the end of the day, when all the work is done. Trish has to smoke weed just to leave the house everyday. That coupled with the oceans of coffee she drinks on a daily basis to cope with the dope. She really should be on some sort of cocktail of medication and in therapy at this point. It’s very clear to me.

Something that should be enjoyed and used as a treat has been a coping mechanism for her. It’s the same for the person that needs to take a drink in the morning to “take the edge” off the day. They’re called alcoholics.

Up till now I haven’t cared about her burning up her talent and watching it go up in a puff of smoke at the end of a joint. But I brought her into the salon.  Now after a year she’s fucking up. That, or returning to her true self. When we hired her last year, the busy season was over. The job was easy then. But now we are being overwhelmed by the clients and business In general. You have to run the salon. You can’t let it run you. We’ve gotten a bad Yelp review recently because of her. Clients have complained of late openings and a bad attitude around closing. Trish shouldn’t work with the general public. She can’t handle the fast paced environment of a busy salon.

Achilles would send me in to help few nights lately. Instead of working like a well oiled unit like Summer and I did, I do all the running and Trish takes her foot off the gas and takes it easy. That’s not how it works.

So that’s why we’ve brought in Jill. She has previous salon experience, and I could see from day one that she would probably work out. Poor Trish just doesn’t have the temperament to work with people.

So the situation we find ourselves in today was supposed to be her last day and no one knows where she is.

Jill comes out from tanning and asks if she can do anything to help and says if I have plans she can work today, because she has nothing going on. I tell her I’m good, and hand her a shopping list for her to go to Wawa and get me some food because I’m going to be here until 6pm.

Oh shit! Cherie is coming at 3pm! I text her and tell her we’ve had a crisis at the salon and I have to work until 6pm. Of course as wonderful and flexible as Cherie is, she is fine with it and tells me she’ll come down at 7pm. I apologize and thank her for being understanding. So Trish’s whatever has fucked up the plans of some innocent people, so she better have a good excuse for bailing on work  on her final day and not even telling anyone what was going on.

Cherie is a mother, and has to make babysitting arrangements when she comes into the city to see me. I feel bad if that’s causing my girlfriend stress and money because of someone else’s fuck up.

Suddenly Trish comes blazing through the door to the salon.

“I’m so sorry…”

She’s visibly upset on the verge of tears.

“What happened?”

“I was arrested last night.

To Be Continued…

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly            Facebook: phicklephilly      Twitter: @phicklephilly

A Divorce Lawyer says: Manipulating your Partner isn’t Dishonest – and it can even make your Relationship Better

A divorce lawyer says manipulating your partner isn't dishonest - and it can even make your relationship better

Nobody wants to be thought of as a manipulative partner.

In fact, if you think your partner is constantly tricking you, it’s a major red flag.

But according to a divorce lawyer, a little manipulation here and there can be beneficial to your relationship.

If your partner is manipulative, by always blaming you for things that aren’t your fault and making you feel inferior, it’s probably a red flag.

But according to divorce lawyer James J. Sexton, nudging your partner in the right direction every now and then isn’t an issue. In fact, he said in a blog post on Psychology Today that some manipulation can actually make your relationship better.

Sexton says that in general, it’s easier to change other people than it is to change yourself. This means that although we are conditioned to believe it’s immoral to try to change someone else, and to love someone for “who they are,” we should ignore these rules if we want to help each other become better versions of ourselves.

The traditional method used to be to praise the positive and punish the negative, Sexton said. But after watching his clients for two decades, he said he wasn’t convinced. Instead, he said the most effective thing to do is both praise the behavior in your partner that you like, and also say how much you like the opposite of whatever it is they’re doing that you don’t like.

For example, if you want your partner to be more spontaneous and adventurous, try hinting at it when they suggest going to the same restaurant you always go to.

Instead of saying “but we always go there,” and “it’s boring going to the same place all the time,” exaggerate how much you like trying new things.

“Wait until your partner does something, literally anything, that shows some hint of the trait you would need to enhance in him,” Sexton said.

“In this case, to get the restaurant result you’re ultimately looking for, it would be something that has an element of spontaneity. Then praise your partner like you’re praising your niece’s performance after one of those atrocious kindergarten ‘Holiday Concerts.'”

It’s not dishonesty, according to Sexton, but misdirection — which is a “key ingredient to magic.”

“But honestly, it’s just a nice way to get what you need,” he said. “It leaves you or your partner feeling a little bit better and a little bit more loved and appreciated.”

In fact, if you try the opposite approach, such as telling your partner that you don’t like it when they grow their beard, they will probably end up resenting the act of shaving to please you.

“You’re not manipulating to serve merely your needs,” Sexton said. “You do it to serve the greater union of the two of you. If you do it right, you make yourself happier, your partner happier (or at least no less happy)… and the marriage incontestably better.”

 

Was this helpful? What are your thoughts on Mr. Sexton’s opinions?

 

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

Facebook: phicklephilly          Instagram@phicklephilly    Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Miscellaneous Stories: Real Life Sugar Babies Describe What It’s Like To Have A Sugar Daddy – Part 3

It’s All An Act

From IAMASugarBaby:

“So I am very keen on creating a genuine relationship experience. This means that I think it is important to go on several dates before there is any private physical interaction, and even then I dole it out and keep it to a minimum. At the end of the day if someone asked me in private if my daddy is my boyfriend I would laugh and say no, it’s really just an act/a game and the daddies know this too. I’ve even maintained real relationships while doing this on the side. Some get caught up in it and feel its real but that’s why I choose to create a persona instead of revealing too much about myself.

As far as jobs go I really can’t complain. I get to play dress up and have a ridiculous salary for basically being an actress. It’s certainly not ALL about the money; I can’t keep a facade up forever and if I find someone to be completely repugnant (or even just no chemistry) I will not go out with them again.”

Highs And Lows

From Suckulaa:

“Sugar baby for about a year now, on/off. Was having trouble finding work and always liked older men so I put the two together. I’m plus size and I thought I wouldn’t have any luck but I do surprisingly well. Had a couple of CEOs, attorney, etc. Got to meet really interesting people and had a lot of opportunities to travel. It’s a lot of work though. Need to market yourself, look put together and be prepared to f*ck some old dudes. Had really high points and lows. Usually SDs do a monthly allowance or PPM, it always depended on scheduling for me.”

Getting Through A Rough Patch

From DarthMelonLord:

“I was a sugar baby is [sic] a teen.

I’ve always been fairly neutral towards it, I might do it again if I was single and hit hard times, but it’s not really that glamorous, especially when you don’t have any money to begin with and all the gifts go into boring stuff like bills, groceries and school. He really did help me through a rough patch in my life though so I’m thankful for that. it was all very casual and I know people often have a more professional approach to this, we didn’t have an agreement or anything like that. he’d just ask if I wanted or needed something, I’d tell him and then he’d either give me money for it or buy it himself and give to me. I was a bit shy about asking for stuff for first but he assured me it was fine, I think the most expensive thing he bought for me was a really nice city bike.”

Paying The Bills

From schattenpuppe:

“I have a sugar daddy at the moment and had two before. I’ve got into it while I was doing a gap year abroad after high school. I friend of mine there was doing it and I joined her and her sugar daddy at an event and met my first one there, a friend of her sugar daddy. I was with him for the rest of my year there and a while after I came back to my country I wanted to get into it again and found the other two over SA.

I’ve had my sugar daddy now for about a year and my arrangement with him is that I get 2000€/month as an allowance. He also pays my rent and any extra expenses I have because of him, like if I need new clothes to accompany him somewhere or travel costs as we don’t live in the same city. We agreed on three date nights and one weekend together a month and one weekend away every once in a while.”

The Pressure To Be Interesting

From throwsomesugarmyway:

“I was a college student in NYC, and to be perfectly honest I don’t really have many financial problems. I have an ample amount of financial aid that covers my tuition, but what I hated was relying on my parents for money. I used to work in high school in LA, but when my savings from that went dry I looked for other jobs but found that it was too difficult to both work and go to college at the same time…

I used to toy with the idea of being an escort actually, as I find no problems with sex for money. But I hated the idea of being in potential danger every time I had an outcall and the long night shifts that I would have to work as an escort.

That’s when I discovered sugar daddies. I read so many articles about them, and found that most girls would find a long-term daddy. This sounded too tedious to me – most rich men don’t want to think that you’re ONLY after them for their money, and like some level of attention and spoiling. I am a pretty emotionally detached person, so in my profile I specified that I was not looking to be anyone’s girlfriend.

It’s surprising how fast the replies come in. I learned to be smart at separating the guys into categories… some were creepy, some wanted too much from me (vacations, spending nights, etc), some simply didn’t offer enough money, and some were very unattractive (yes, shallow I know. But the whole site is shallow). Finally I agreed on $1500 to be paid biweekly directly into my bank account by a daddy named Adam*. I saw him for the first time at a nice dinner, and I could tell he was charmed by me. He hadn’t booked a hotel room or anything that night, and I could tell he didn’t feel comfortable with me going to his place so we parted with a hug. I saw him again the week after and he had booked a hotel room where I slept with him. Funny thing is after that I never saw him again. He stopped responding to my text messages. My hunch is that he realized that I treated the whole interaction as a transaction – which was completely true.

I came back to LA for the summer and realized again that I loved the easy money of being a sugar baby. Look pretty once a week and get paid to have sex. So I did it again, this time settling for a dude named Ben*. He paid me 800 dollars every time I saw him (usually once a week) and the sex was pretty fun.

I broke it off as college started again, but I have to say that I would probably continue to have a sugar daddy in the near future. The only thing I dislike about it (from my experience anyways) is having to act interested and be funny and cute in conversations. Obviously our visits wouldn’t just be me walking in the door and sleeping with him – there was some conversation first. I learned a lot about both of the sugar daddies I had, but the pressure to be interesting is slightly too much for me.”

No Regrets

From ExpectoPatronum13:

“I’ve had a few experiences. Met both of them through SugarDaddie.com

One with a man who lived a couple of hours from me. Married. Hated his wife. Would pay me $2000 plus pay for a hotel and room service AND dinner for me to come and spend time with him. Once a month or so. I didn’t know he was married at first and I broke it off when I found out.

Another who lived across the Atlantic from me. He flew me to spend a month with him, gave me an apartment and a job after we spent a weekend in NYC together. More recently I flew to his city on my own and lived with him for two months. We had periodic stints of sexual relationship but ultimately he was just a friend as I was dating someone on and off in between seeing him. Ultimately, it turned out that he was a sociopath and had no respect for women so I haven’t spoken to him since.

Overall, I have no regrets. Except having to explain to a current SO that I had done that, but then again, I wouldn’t be in the country that I’m in if it weren’t for the second one so we wouldn’t have met.”

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly   Twitter: @phicklephilly