Sun Stories: Aishah – The Wages of Fear – Chapter 3

One study indicates that anywhere from 5–7% of the world population is affected by severe claustrophobia, but only a small percentage of these people receive some kind of treatment for the disorder.

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Our girl Aishah has severe claustrophobia. Let’s look at the science behind this disorder.

Claustrophobia is the fear of being enclosed in a small space or room and unable to escape. It can be triggered by many situations or stimuli, including elevators crowded to capacity, windowless rooms, small cars and even tight-necked clothing. It is typically classified as an anxiety disorder, which often results in panic attacks. The onset of claustrophobia has been attributed to many factors, including a reduction in the size of the amygdala, classical conditioning, or a genetic predisposition to fear small spaces.

One study indicates that anywhere from 5–7% of the world population is affected by severe claustrophobia, but only a small percentage of these people receive some kind of treatment for the disorder.

The term claustrophobia comes from Latin claustrum “a shut in place” and Greek φόβος, phóbos, “fear”.

Claustrophobia is typically thought to have two key symptoms: fear of restriction and fear of suffocation. A typical claustrophobic will fear restriction in at least one, if not several, of the following areas: small rooms, locked rooms, MRI or CAT scan apparatus, cars, airplanes, trains, tunnels, underwater caves, cellars, elevators and caves. Additionally, the fear of restriction can cause some claustrophobia to fear trivial matters such as sitting in a haircutter’s chair or waiting in line at a grocery store simply out of a fear of confinement to a single space. Another possible site for claustrophobic attacks is a dentist’s chair, particularly during dental surgery; in that scenario, the fear is not of pain, but of being confined.

Often, when confined to an area, claustrophobics begin to fear suffocation, believing that there may be a lack of air in the area to which they are confined.

Claustrophobia is the fear of having no escape, and being closed into a small space. It is typically classified as an anxiety disorder and often times results in a rather severe panic attack. It is also confused sometimes with Cleithrophobia (the fear of being trapped).

The fears of enclosed spaces is an irrational fear. Most claustrophobic people who find themselves in a room without windows consciously know that they aren’t in danger, yet these same people will be afraid, possibly terrified to the point of incapacitation, and many do not know why.

The amygdala is one of the smallest structures in the brain, but also one of the most powerful. The amygdala is needed for the conditioning of fear, or the creation of a fight-or-flight response. A fight-or-flight response is created when a stimulus is associated with a grievous situation. Cheng believes that a phobia’s roots are in this fight-or-flight response.

In generating a fight-or-flight response, the amygdala acts in the following way: The amygdala’s anterior nuclei associated with fear each other. Nuclei send out impulses to other nuclei, which influence respiratory rate, physical arousal, the release of adrenaline, blood pressure, heart rate, behavioral fear response, and defensive responses, which may include freezing up. These reactions constitute an ‘autonomic failure’ in a panic attack.

Amygdala
A study done by Fumi Hayano found that the right amygdala was smaller in patients who suffered from panic disorders. The reduction of size occurred in a structure known as the corticomedial nuclear group which the CE nucleus belongs to. This causes interference, which in turn causes abnormal reactions to aversive stimuli in those with panic disorders. In claustrophobic people, this translates as panicking or overreacting to a situation in which the person finds themselves physically confined.

Classical conditioning

Claustrophobia results as the mind comes to connect confinement with danger. It often comes as a consequence of a traumatic childhood experience, although the onset can come at any point in an individual’s life. Such an experience can occur multiple times, or only once, to make a permanent impression on the mind.[6] The majority of claustrophobic participants in an experiment done by Lars-Göran Öst reported that their phobia had been “acquired as a result of a conditioning experience.” In most cases, claustrophobia seems to be the result of past experiences.

Conditioning experiences

A few examples of common experiences that could result in the onset of claustrophobia in children (or adults) are as follows:

(All equally terrifying)
A child (or, less commonly, an adult) is shut into a pitch-black room and cannot find the door or the light-switch.
A child gets shut into a box.
A child is locked in a closet.
A child falls into a deep pool and cannot swim.
A child gets separated from their parents in a large crowd and gets lost.
A child sticks their head between the bars of a fence and then cannot get back out.
A child crawls into a hole and gets stuck, or cannot find their way back.
A child is left in their parent’s car, truck, or van.
A child is in a crowded area with no windows (a classroom, basement, etc.) and has run-ins with other people, or is put there as a means of punishment.

The term ‘past experiences’, according to one author, can extend to the moment of birth. In John A. Speyrer’s “Claustrophobia and the Fear of Death and Dying”, the reader is brought to the conclusion that claustrophobia’s high frequency is due to birth trauma, about which he says is “one of the most horrendous experiences we can have during our lifetime,” and it is in this helpless moment that the infant develops claustrophobia.

In an MRI, the patient is inserted into the tube.
Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) can trigger claustrophobia. An MRI scan entails lying still for some time in a narrow tube. In a study involving claustrophobia and MRI, it was reported that 13% of patients experienced a panic attack during the procedure. The procedure has been linked not only to the triggering of ‘preexisting’ claustrophobia, but also to the onset of the condition in some people. Panic attacks experienced during the procedure can stop the person from adjusting to the situation, thereby perpetuating the fear.

Miners in small spaces

The conditions inside a mine
S.J. Rachman tells of an extreme example, citing the experience of 21 miners. These miners were trapped underground for 14 days, during which six of the miners died of suffocation. After their rescue, ten of the miners were studied for ten years. All but one were greatly affected by the experience, and six developed phobias to “confining or limiting situations.” The only miner who did not develop any noticeable symptoms was the one who acted as leader.[11]

Another factor that could cause the onset of claustrophobia is “information received.[7]” As Aureau Walding states in “Causes of Claustrophobia”, many people, especially children, learn who and what to fear by watching parents or peers. This method does not only apply to observing a teacher, but also observing victims. Vicarious classical conditioning also includes when a person sees another person exposed directly to an especially unpleasant situation.[12] This would be analogous to observing someone getting stuck in a tight space, suffocated, or any of the other examples that were listed above.

Prepared phobia

There is research that suggests that claustrophobia isn’t entirely a classically conditioned or learned phobia. It is not necessarily an inborn fear, but it is very likely what is called a prepared phobia. As Erin Gersley says in “Phobias: Causes and Treatments,” humans are genetically predisposed to become afraid of things that are dangerous to them. Claustrophobia may fall under this category because of its “wide distribution… early onset and seeming easy acquisition, and its non-cognitive features.[13]” The acquisition of claustrophobia may be part of a vestigial evolutionary survival mechanism,[5] a dormant fear of entrapment and/or suffocation that was once important for the survival of humanity and could be easily awakened at any time.[14] Hostile environments in the past would have made this kind of pre-programmed fear necessary, and so the human mind developed the capacity for “efficient fear conditioning to certain classes of dangerous stimuli”.

Rachman provides an argument for this theory in his article: “Phobias”. He agrees with the statement that phobias generally concern objects that constitute a direct threat to human survival, and that many of these phobias are quickly acquired because of an “inherited biological preparedness”.[15] This brings about a prepared phobia, which is not quite innate, but is widely and easily learned. As Rachman explains in the article: “The main features of prepared phobias are that they are very easily acquired, selective, stable, biologically significant, and probably [non-cognitive].” ‘Selective’ and ‘biologically significant’ mean that they only relate to things that directly threaten the health, safety, or survival of an individual. ‘Non-cognitive’ suggests that these fears are acquired unconsciously. Both factors point to the theory that claustrophobia is a prepared phobia that is already pre-programmed into the mind of a human being.

Separating the fear of restriction and fear of suffocation[edit]

Many experts who have studied claustrophobia claim that it consists of two separable components: fear of suffocation and fear of restriction. In an effort to fully prove this assertion, a study was conducted by three experts in order to clearly prove a difference. The study was conducted by issuing a questionnaire to 78 patients who received MRIs.

The data was compiled into a “fear scale” of sorts with separate subscales for suffocation and confinement. Theoretically, these subscales would be different if the contributing factors are indeed separate. The study was successful in proving that the symptoms are separate. Therefore, according to this study, in order to effectively combat claustrophobia, it is necessary to attack both of these underlying causes.

However, because this study only applied to people who were able to finish their MRI, those who were unable to complete the MRI were not included in the study. It is likely that many of these people dropped out because of a severe case of claustrophobia. Therefore, the absence of those who suffer the most from claustrophobia could have skewed these statistics.

A group of students attending the University of Texas at Austin were first given an initial diagnostic and then given a score between 1 and 5 based on their potential to have claustrophobia. Those who scored a 3 or higher were used in the study. The students were then asked how well they felt they could cope if forced to stay in a small chamber for an extended period of time. Concerns expressed in the questions asked were separated into suffocation concerns and entrapment concerns in order to distinguish between the two perceived causes of claustrophobia. The results of this study showed that the majority of students feared entrapment far more than suffocation. Because of this difference in type of fear, it can yet again be asserted that there is a clear difference in these two symptoms.

Cognitive therapy

Cognitive therapy is a widely accepted form of treatment for most anxiety disorders.[16] It is also thought to be particularly effective in combating disorders where the patient doesn’t actually fear a situation but, rather, fears what could result from being in such a situation.[16] The ultimate goal of cognitive therapy is to modify distorted thoughts or misconceptions associated with whatever is being feared; the theory is that modifying these thoughts will decrease anxiety and avoidance of certain situations.[16] For example, cognitive therapy would attempt to convince a claustrophobic patient that elevators are not dangerous but are, in fact, very useful in getting you where you would like to go faster. A study conducted by S.J. Rachman shows that cognitive therapy decreased fear and negative thoughts/connotations by an average of around 30% in claustrophobic patients tested, proving it to be a reasonably effective method.

 

 

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Ambria – Chapter 8 – Wednesday Encounter

Ambria and I had a lovely little meetup on Monday, we decided to meet on Tuesday at noon for lunch. I figured Taco Tuesday at Drinkers Pub was in order.

She was down.

Tuesday morning I got a text from her to confirm. All good. Then I get a call from Achilles. He says Jill was supposed to open the salon today and she was a no-show.

“We just fucking hired her!”

“I know. Can you go over there and work?”

“Fuck. Okay.”

He’s my business partner. I can’t let him down. We’re having a crisis, and the clients need to served.

I call Ambria and explain my dilemma. I can tell she’s not only disappointed, but seems suspicious. That worries me. It’s early in the relationship. But this is a legit last-minute cancellation. I feel bad about it, but we can do tacos next week. That’s why I called her and didn’t text her. That would have been lame.

So the next day, I decide to get a haircut from Jimmy, the old guy I met at 1518 Bar and Grill. He’s been cutting hair for 40 years in the same location on Sansom Street. His barber shop is on the 2nd floor over Oscar’s. (Dive bar) I like Jimmy, so I figured get the guy who has a great history, and once cut singer Eddie Fisher’s hair.

After my haircut, which looks fabulous, I go down to 1518 for a glass of wine. I text my friend Jillian, to confirm that we’re meeting for happy hour. Of course Jillian bails saying her boss gave her a bunch more work to do. Lame.

So I text Sarika. I’m good with having a drink with the hottest girl I know. Sarika texts back that she’s in Boston all week.

I text my buddy Robert. He says I can meet him to go pick up his baby son at day care and then we can walk back to Fairmount, and have a drink at McCrossin’s by his house. That sounds lame, and I pass on that.

Then I get a text from Ambria that she has a drug dinner at Ocean Prime at 7pm, and can I meet up around 4pm to hang before. (drug dinner?) One of the pharmaceutical firms that works with the hospital where she works is throwing the staff a dinner.

I tell her I’d love to see her. After the taco Tuesday fail, I felt this would be my opportunity to reconnect with her and explain the whole situation to her.

She comes in to the bar and I’m there sipping my chardonnay with a side of ice. She looks great. Her hair is looking chic and she has a lovely light blue dress on. She gives me a hug and a peck, then takes a seat next to me. This is better than any happy hour I would have had with anyone else.

I tell her the whole tragic tale of why Jill bailed at the salon and how we had to fire her. (See: Sun Stories – Jill – 2016 to Present – Fired)

We hang out and chat and there is more hand holding, eye gazing and giggling. I ask her if we can slide over to Dan Dan so I can get something to eat. She’s fine with it. We get there and my boy Chet is behind the stick. He asks her what she’d like to drink as he sets down a chardonnay with a side of ice down on the bar in front of me.

My boy’s on point.

She orders a glass of rose’. I get some chicken pot stickers and dry rub wings. We’re chatting and munching the food. She only eats one of the wings because she’s about to go to a nice sit down dinner around the corner. I’m happy I got to see her, and express to her again how grateful I am that she was understanding about me bailing on our taco lunch an hour before we were supposed to meet. She is very understanding and just said that I sounded a little weird on the phone, but it’s probably because I was stressed about the situation. I agree with her and I’m glad every thing is hunky dory with us now.

I ask her if she’d like to try again for the movies on Monday. She says she automatically believed that was going to happen and is already planning on it. That makes me happy. I love going to a matinee in the afternoon on a workday in the summer. I always feel like I’m playing hooky. Hot and sunny outside. Nice and cool in the dark theater while the story unfolds larger than life before you. The buttery popcorn, crunchy candy and ice-cold fountain soda make for the perfect date. (Plus for you guys with little game, you don’t have to talk for two hours!)

We wrap it up at Dan Dan, and I walk her over to Ocean Prime. I tell her to have fun and I’ll be thinking about her. She gives me some sweet kisses and in she goes. I walk down to the corner and light a cig. I see I have a text from my friend Church. That’s odd. He knows I was supposed to meet Jillian for happy hour. The text came in at 5:30. It’s 6:45 now. I text him that I’m on my way. He texts back that he got bored and left.

Strange.

Well, that saves me spending any more money tonight. I’ll go home and write some more. Ambria is great.

Well, until Movie Matinee Monday, I’ll see you all later!

 

 

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Sun Stories: Aishah – The Wages of Fear – Chapter 2

A few days go by and once again lovely Aishah returns. Of course I remember her name and I greet her and make a fuss over her. I ask her how school is going and what’s up for the holiday. She says she’s going home to see her folks in North Jersey then off to Costa Rica for the winter break.

I send her to the Cadillac in room 6 this time. Let’s see what happens this time.

A few minutes pass and the bed lid squeaks closed. The bulbs light and her session had begun. I’m doing my thing around the salon and I’m coming out from the back room with some towels when I hear the familiar squeak of the hood on the Caddy, (We call it the Cadillac because when it’s closed it looks like the front of an old Caddy.

OPEN

CLOSED

The bed must be open or at least partially for that much light to stream forth from the room. I decide to ask her if everything’s okay with the unit when she comes out.

A few minutes later and hot Aishah appears. She’s waving goodbye and I motion her over. I gotta find out what’s going on.

“Aishah, got a sec?”

She nods smiling, she approaches. “Yea. What’s up?”

“I noticed when you’re in tanning during your session, a lot of light is coming out of the room. It’s as if the hood of the bed is open. Do you have any questions about the machines?”

I see a nervous fear wash across her lovely visage. She takes a deep breath and drops her gaze to the floor.

“You alright?”

Aishah looks back up at me. “I’m so embarrassed. You’re going to think I’m crazy. It’s so silly.”

“We’re all professionals here. Whatever is happening I’m sure I can help. What’s up?”

“Okay. Here goes… I have really bad claustrophobia. Like… really bad.”

“Okay. That’s more common than you’d think. Please don’t be embarrassed about it, dear.”

“It’s just an awful feeling. Like, I know I really need to tan, so I go in and breathe and lie on the bed and just wait. I try to stay calm. The bulbs come on, and I slowly close the lid. I try to just chill and breathe. I try to think of anything else, but in a few minutes I start to really panic. Like trembling with fear. I have to push the hood up immediately just so I can breathe.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry Aishah. That’s why you don’t do the stand up units.”

“Oh no! That’s an even smaller space. I could never. I’d run out of the room.”

“Well between now and the next time you come in maybe we can think of some ideas to get you tan and not scare the hell out of you in doing so!”

“That would be nice. I’ll try to come up with something as well. I’m so claustrophobic I don’t even like how I feel when I close and lock the doors on the room. It’s like I’m locked in a tiny room and then in a box with the lid closed. It feels like I’m being buried alive in a crypt.”

“Holy shit. That is scary!”

“Yea, it really is. If I ever had to go into one of those MRI machines I’d jump out a window! But I do feel better talking to you about it though. (takes my hand in hers) I really appreciate you taking the time to ask me if I was okay. That really means a lot to me.”

“Yea. Don’t worry. We’ll come up with something to help make you feel better.”

“Okay. Well until next time. (She smiles weakly and walks out the door.)

 

This poor girl. I never thought about it before but that’s a new one for me. I’ve heard people say that they do get a little claustrophobic in the stand ups. But not this bad where some one is literally having a panic attack. I kind of like cozy places. Probably because of my anxiety and depression. To be in a small womb like space. It always feels safer to me. Just the opposite for poor Aishah. She feels trapped like a frightened animal in a cage.

We’ll figure something out. We always do. I need to do some research.

 

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Ambria – Chapter 3 – Wednesday Night – Part One

I text her early in the day to tell her that I was looking forward to seeing her at El Rey at 5pm.

She replied: “Me too. You better be there. lol”

So cute. I promised her that I would.

I get there early. Around quarter of, because I hate being late for anything. Punctuality was drilled into me by my father at an early age, but we’ll save that for a later blog.

The staff is sweet. The hostess get me a nice quiet table in the back. I order a margarita to steady the pre-date jitters and I’m all set.

I text her that I’ve arrived and a photo of my icy fresh cocktail. She responds that she’s on her way. Then she texts again. “Just got the picture. You suck! Lol”

Holy shit, this girl has given me the greatest first date ever in this dating odyssey yesterday. Really good. Easy and nice. I like her!

Today she broke the record for arriving later than any date I have ever been on. She was a full hour late. I expected after 5 to be 5:15ish. I would have accepted 5:30, but now she’s pushing 6pm. It’s killing me. I am at my booth in the back of El Rey. Booth 11. Everybody has been great. The hostess Daisy has been a love, Meg my cute stepford wife-like server Megan has been great and attentive. She an adorable little Asian girl with blonde pigtails.

My phone is dying. (something I don’t ever allow to happen because I carry a charger with me at all times) But I need to keep in touch with Ambria who says she is still at work and has to write some notes. I don’t know what that means, but she’s a nurse and I don’t question it. I don’t even know where she is right now. I’m two margaritas in so I can’t complain, but I’m getting frustrated. If Ambria arrives they’ll describe my table as #11 or the booth with the singular white guy that is angrily talking to himself alone.

I’m feeling that old frustration again. Where is she? I know deep down, when I see her I’ll be fine, or will I? What does after 5 mean to her? Happy Hour is over at 6:30 here and we are burning guacamole over here. Tick Tock, Ambria. You need to get here. I think I’m only feeling this way because I like her so much. Goddamn it.

She texts me and tells me that she is en route and sorry that she’s late. I hand off my phone and charger to sweet Megan and she plugs me in at the back hostess stand. So at least my phone is close by.

Time is ticking away and I’m sitting there sipping and twiddling my thumbs. What if she just stands me up due to cold feet. That crazy thought crosses my mind but I push it away. I ask Meg to check my phone and see if I have a text. She grabs it and says there is a text. It’s Ambria and she says she will be there in a minute.

She tells me to order two of whatever I’m having and she’ll be there in a minute.

I hand the phone back to Megan and she puts it in her breast pocket. I like that my phone is face down against her supple breast. Yea, it’s a moment but I’m losing my shit.

Then I see baby come through the front door. She looks hot. Curls in place, lovely face smiling in apology, outfit looking tight.

She’s very sorry for being so late and explains. I was pissed because I could have gotten there later and could have maybe helped out at the salon tonight. But when I see her, as I knew, all would be forgiven.

She’s a nurse. Shit happens. She’s here now and looks great and is the same girl I met yesterday, so I’m back in the groove I was in yesterday. The tequila helps soften my mood.

I want yesterday’s energy tonight. She toasts me and we sip our margaritas. All is good. I admit to her that yesterday she hit the record for the best first date ever, and today she broke the record for being later than any other girl I’ve ever gone out a date with her. I can see she’s hurt and sad about failing me, and I turn it into a joke. I tell her it’s okay, and on our third date I tell her we have to break another record. Maybe I won’t believe I could hold my breath that long or had never fallen from such a height.

I don’t want her to feel bad, so I lay off. I don’t want to be my dad in this moment.  She looks beautiful and I really like her, so I forgive her.

She’s plowing margaritas. Stressful day. They tell us happy hour is ending in 20 minutes so we order a bunch of tacos and some other stuff that she likes and she orders a pitcher of margaritas. That’s a bold move and she offers to pay. Not tonight sister. You took first date lunch bill. I got this, no matter the cost. You’re worth it.

The banter and flirting and witty repartee is still gleaming between us and I love it.

This girl…

Never saw this one coming. I really like her. You never know. You have to keep going. Go on all of the shitty dates you can as long as it doesn’t break you financially. But keep going. Meet more people. Like sales. it’s a numbers game. Ask a thousand girls to dance and maybe one will say yes. But that one girl could be your life.

I’ve perfected this to an art. I’m at ease. I’m charming. I’m Hank Moody, but with all the charm and elegance, instead of the fighting and jail time. (Google: Californication)

It’s good again. It never stopped being good. I love being with Ambria. She’s fun, sweet and smart. There’s real chemistry here. I can feel it. It just works. It’s effortless. Why did I not see this in the other women I’ve been dating? If I can offer up a piece of advice here gents and also to the ladies, when you go on a date with a new person, it’s either hell yes, or hell no.

It’s that simple. I went on a bunch of dates. I thought, let me get to know her, let me be a better person, I should get to know her and be mature.

Fuck all that. You meet someone and go out. You feel something. A connection. It’s got to feel easy. They need to connect with you like an old friend but you just met them. Lean into it. Be true to that and you’ll meet somebody good. If you have to force it, or have to keep laboriously keep marching into dates, fuck that.

On our very first date we connected. You need to get that. It’s amazing. You’ll know. After the date, there will be no questions as to anyone’s intentions, or where it’s going. You’ll both only be filled with the “I can’t to see them again.” vibe. I swear, it’s that easy. Don’t waste your time. I’ve been at this for so long, I know. I will never dish out any bullshit in this blog. It’s rare and elegant but that’s what it feels like.

They don’t care who you are or what you look like, it’s just a connection. Just you and them. It’s happening. You almost can’t stop your hearts from attaining what they want in that instance. It’ll be like you’re teenagers again. It’s that simple. I like you, you like me, and lets spend more time together.

As adults we complicate this too much. It’s just the laws of attraction. We’re fucking mammals. We want to get it on. But we’re so intelligent and complicated we fuck it up for ourselves. Because we over think everything. Let the heart want what it wants and just roll with it. Relax. I know it seems complicated, but I’m here to tell you that it’s not. It’s just chemistry.

Kiss those frogs. Do it. Keep doing it. (Or maybe just a hug) Your Prince or Princess is out there and she can’t wait to meet you!

 

Tune in tomorrow for Part Two!

 

 

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

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Dating and Relationship Advice: Do Some People Think Women Have Higher Sex Drives Than Men?

Why do so many people think women have higher sex drives than men?

I know SOME women can have higher sex drives than SOME men. There are some women who frequently have an intense desire for sex — and there are men who don’t — but on average men definitely have stronger sex drives than women do. I think even most women would admit that.

The average man just naturally has a higher libido than the average woman. Men have 7 or 8 times higher testosterone levels than women do. That has a huge affect on sex drive.

Yeah, some women want more sex than their male partners, but in general the pattern goes the other way. Pretty much every study and every measure fit the pattern that, overall, men are hornier than women.

“WebMD concurs, noting that study after study shows men with the stronger sex drive”

“According to Marta Meana, psychology professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, data overwhelmingly show that, typically, men have a higher sex drive than women”
Why do some people think women have higher sex drives than men?

Studies on female-to-male and male-to-female transsexuals lend these findings additional credence.

A study of 35 female-to-male transsexuals and 15 male-to-female transsexuals also supports the impact of androgens on sex drive. In a longitudinal design that tested patients before and 3 months postoperatively, found a decrease in sexual interest and arousability among the male-to-female transsexuals, who were administered anti-androgens and estrogens. In contrast, the female-to-male transsexuals, who were administered testosterone, reported heightened sexual interest and arousability. 

These data highlight the importance of testosterone in producing meaningful changes in sexual arousal and interest, even over a relatively short time.

 

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Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

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

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Dina – 2011 to Present – In The Vault

“These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.”

I crush it at the salon on a Saturday because I’ll be gone for 3 days. Dina, my friend and broker and I meet up at 1518 Bar & Grille. She’s 4’11” and adorable. She also has the metabolism of a bee. She loves Smores, fried chicken, Oreos, and ice cream.

Dina orders a lemon martini. I’m on my 2nd straight up with a twist and Asha the bartender hooks me up with house but it’s Ketel One.

She looks hot.  Boots, dark jeans, and custom leather jacket. Cute as hell. Dark curls tumble about her shoulders and of course that hot pouty mouth of hers.

I introduce her to  her to Prova the bartender. (See: Prova – 2015 to Present – Glow of the Sun) She looks amazing as always. Those dimples!

These clowns come in and are fans of Prova and act like crazy drunk, loud assholes. I fucking hate that. I literally want to call the cops and say these middle eastern looking guys were talking about taking flying lessons and not landing lessons and there was talk about the new Comcast tower being built.

They were that annoying.

Dina is amazing. She’s such a no bullshit girl who is so sure about herself. I love her plus she looks 18. I always knew she was too good for any life or job i saw her in. I’m also happy her husband is such a chill solid pup he doesn’t mind his hot wife hanging out with the Dark Lord and having drinks.

We need to get out of here. These Indian guys suck. So loud and annoying. I can’t think straight.

We close out and I let the staff know that there’s no hard feelings but that’s why we’re leaving. We need to talk and I need to hear her. I miss my friend.

We never go out on Saturday night. It’s all young drunk people around city. The women are extraordinary though.

We decide to check out Square 1682 but the staff sucks and we head to Sofitel. Liam is on and so is the waitress who likes to go topless when she gets drunk. Let’s just call her Tulip. I usually do a rock trivia thing with Liam but tonight I have a different one.

“You wake up and look out your front door and see the sun rise out of the Atlantic Ocean. Later that day, you walk out your back door and watch the sun set in the Pacific Ocean. Where is your house?”

Tulip looks great and I intro Dina to the crew. The bar is full so we sit and a quiet table in the lounge, which is glorious. Tulip brings a snack tray for Dina because as we all know, she loves to eat.

Dina’s happy and we order wine. She’s hungry, so more food is on the way. I got the drinks at 1518 but I know she’ll cover everything from here which is clutch.

We catch up on my life. Daughter Lorelei, the fitness center I should be opening in Rittenhouse in the next 60 days, and what’s happening with this blog, the book, and TV series we’re developing about it. Dina and her husband just settled on a house in Rittenhouse so I love that they’ll be in the neighborhood with us.

Liam is texting me solutions to my puzzle and they’re all wrong.

She says she has a strange story about a former colleague of mine. This person has since cut me off a couple of years ago for no apparent reason, but he likes to keep weak inferiors around him, and I hate his friends and wife anyway so its no loss to me. We could have been mighty but he never did what he was supposed to do with the business so now it’s just a trust fund baby’s way to play work. I loved the guy, but he has to make the juvenile choices he needs to make.

She tells me about this dinner she had with this other dude, I used to know that always had a thing for her. He’s harmless. We all still think he’s a virgin, so there’s that. He’s a really smart guy that is always super excited about everything that is before him, and it comes off as childish. I like the guy, but to me he’s just a bore.

If he would just get laid he’d probably chill out and get a different perspective on everything. I hate to say that, but that would probably fix his ass.

She goes to this dinner with this guy, as a friend or a wing woman or whatever with my former colleague and his horrible wife. I remember Everybody hated this guy’s wife years ago. She’s awful. She’s kind of hot. But only in the sense that if I were marooned on a desert island with her I would bang her for a few months but it would only be a matter of time before I became so annoyed with her that I would eventually kill her and eat her to survive just to not have to listen to her endless bullshit.

So they have their awkward dinner, little virgin guy gets an UBER with Dina back to Rittehouse. He gets in the car with her and says:

“So they are separated. She wanted it.”

I know this guy has a pre-nup so he’s well protected in regard to his daddy’s loot.

“Really?”

She thinks the wife is awful just like the rest of us.

“Yea, he went to an event and told her he could only get one ticket because they were really expensive, but he went with is new editor.”

“Oh wow. That’s a shame.”

“Yea, and his wife is living at the house, (because she doesn’t earn shit) and he said he’s living at a hotel but he’s really living with new editor girlfriend at an apartment somewhere.”

I am not shocked about this news because I knew he was miserable with that harpy years ago. She cheated on him in college and is crazy. She has destroyed property at the house, assaulted people at concerts, fights with him all the time, withholds sex all the time, has flushed his weed, and cigars, and is just an all around child who behaves as if she has fetal alcohol syndrome. Thank God she never wanted kids, because he dodged a huge child support bullet and should just cut that beast loose.

But he’s cut me off and I take that as a smite to me. I loved the guy and we were tight. I don’t know hat’s happened to him, but I’m sure he’s in a world of pain right now. I hope he gets through it okay, but I’m German and so is he, and if you read this dude, then schadenfreude is a bitch baby.

Karma can be a real fucker. You reap what you sow. You make bad life choices and that shit comes back on you like a hurricane. I just hope he can cash her out and flush her from his life and hopefully move on with the new mistress he’s fucking.

Dina and I eat and drink like Gods at Sofitel and I’m happy just to have her in my presence and hear her voice. I adore her. She’s so sound as a woman. I wish I could replicate her into five more to hang out with. Maybe a lawyer, and accountant Dina would be a start.

I go out for a smoke and she pays the bill. (Love her!) We both trust each other implicitly with all of our honesty and the relationship is wonderful. She takes care of my money and knows how to keep her mouth shut. Obviously we discuss everything that’s going on in our lives and it’s so intimate that I can’t talk about it here but maybe someday if this becomes a TV show our characters can talk about children, and marriage, but I can’t divulge our secrets here. Don’t worry’s it’s not that exciting, but this is a dating blog and not a forum for right and wrong.

We decide to head out and Dina needs Ben & Jerry’s. Of course I stand and put her leather jacket on her slight frame. You have to be a gentleman 100% of the time with everyone, guys.

We step out into the night. It’s stopped raining and the street is wet and the air is cool.

Happily there’s a store half way down the block from the hotel bar and it’s still open. I’m a wine, cocktail and carb guy. I’m just not really into sweets or dairy anymore. It doesn’t agree with my physiology. Middle age. But she’s 28 and looks 18 and loves sweets. She says we MUST stop there. I’ve walked by the place a hundred times and have had no desire to ever climb the steps and go in. (Even on National Ice Cream Day, where they give away free cones all day!)

We go in and this is alien to me. I never go into ice cream parlors. It’s clean and bright. I like it but prefer a dark bar.

The kid with the hat and dreds and tie-dye shirt is sweet and articulate. He knows his products. I always admire that. Dina knows this place so well that if she asks for endless samples of every crazy flavor combination they will let her put them in her mouth endlessly. I have this arrangement with Prova but she does it for me with craft beers so I get it. The ice cream flavors seem delicious, and she devours a few samples lovingly.  She encourages me to partake in the samples but I know what rich dairy will do to my colon so I only do one. It is some sort of chocolate, vanilla, cookies and nuts and crushed cone concoction. It is exquisite in my mouth.

I get it. But there are things in my life now that are far sweeter than any frozen treat can match.

Dina decides on some lethal combo and they put it all on a sugar cone. This is actually a really sweet moment in my mind. I adore Dina. I trust her with my money and my secrets. She’s one of my favorite people in my life.

I’m not getting an ice cream cone but this reminds me of some of the sweet romantic moments of my young life. Getting an ice cream cone with a young pretty girl on a Saturday night. She manages my financial portfolio and is a trusted friend but in this moment I am just happy to walk her home.

She’s loving her ice cream cone as we stroll through Rittenhouse with me walking on the inside so she doesn’t get splashed by a passing car.

I love this.

I like walking her home to her stoop and giving her a hug goodnight. We promise to keep in touch and have a lunch in our future. She unlocks her door and goes back to her husband and her little dog Lily.

I light a cig and walk home. The streets are wet and slick. They reflect the lights and sounds of the city. I’m happy after a long day at the salon, and a sweet night with a feiend.

I look forward to tomorrow.

 

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