I had been texting this lovely woman I had met on Tinder last winter, who could actually hold a conversation really well, so we decide to meet up. She resembles the stock photo I have provided. I’m just going to say, ‘In her twenties’ for the age. 5’6″. Long chocolate tresses, olive skin, and dark sultry eyes. She told me she works as a model here in Philly at Reinhardt. I have a history with a certain former Reinhardt model, (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day) so I know the talent. Plus, I’ve been described as a modelizer. (Sex in the City)
I’ve only written a blow-by-blow like this once before, (See: Marisa – 2017 to Present – Where the Hell are You? – Part II) but I feel this tale warrants it.
7:00 p.m. – Show up at her place, she isn’t 50 lbs heavier than her picture, doesn’t have a beard or Adam’s apple, and hasn’t tried to ax murder me yet. She’s actually really hot. Chemistry is great, and we actually start making out before our UBER pulls away from the curb. So far so good, Tinder.
7:15 – In the car, things are fine, she’s talking a lot about her modeling job, which is cool.
7:30 – Arrive at ice rink at City Hall and race each other to the ice. This is fun.
7:35 – So we’re there and she’s still going about her local modeling career and all the free things the vendors and designers give her. Thrifty, cool.
8:45 – Been skating for a while, I now know about the process of applying “runway makeup”, the time constraints and approximations of changing outfits depending on the number of pieces, and how to adjust hip tilt and swing, during a catwalk if your clothing piece is top-heavy vs. a long train. I now know every cost approximation of at least 12 different clothing pieces from 3 designers I have never heard of.
8:50 – She can’t talk if she’s eating, so I suggest we get food.
9:00 – We arrive at the place she suggested. It has 40ft high wooden vaulted ceilings with hanging sheer fabric for ambiance and the swankiest fucking bar I’ve ever seen.
9:03 – Sitting down. She’s been bragging for a bit, that despite being a model, she has never done cocaine. Fuck, the prices are steep, I’ll just have a soda and a salad. She knows everything on the menu by name and what it should be paired with.
9:30 – I’m gritting my teeth at this point and exhaling. (I once did this for two hours when I was dragged to see the Sex in the City 2 movie, which is an absolute piece of shit by the way) I would really like some cocaine. (I’ve never done cocaine)
10:20 – Michael Kors ain’t got shit on me for knowledge of the fashion industry.
10:30 – I have no idea what she ordered but the bill is $105 plus tip. She asks if we should go and I say yes. She makes no attempt to pull out her wallet, so I bite the tab, trying to conceal my rage.
10:40 – I’m not too impressed with the date, but being the gentleman I am, walk her to the door. She asks if I want to come in.
10:41 – I meet her mother, in a bathrobe, completely unfazed by my presence. She asks if I know how to fix a light socket. What the fuck?
10:47 – Light socket is fixed.
10:50 – In her room, score!
11:10 – She has taken me through every lotion and perfume and tin of makeup and brush on her vanity and told me the brand, the list price, and how much she actually got it for.
11:20 – She’s almost finished telling me the brand, location of purchase, and price of every shirt, skirt, pair of pants, and jacket in her closet. She is upset that her friend “stole” a bracelet from her 2 weeks ago, she wonders if I would help her look for it.
11:35 – She is literally crying, with tears down her cheeks, because I could not find the “stolen” bracelet behind, under, in her dresser/vanity/bathroom/bed/closet/night stand/carpet. (If it was stolen why did she ask me to look for it in her room?)
11:40 – She has stopped crying and suggests we watch a movie.
11:45 – Pay-Per-View, or something, Evil Cabin Zombies in the Woods Dead #17?
12:00am – Extensive commentary on the superior quality of acting begins, and ensues for the duration of the movie but she says she has a knot in her back and wants me to massage it out.
12:30 – Her shirt is off and she is dead set on me massaging out a very specific knot on her left shoulder which does not exist. (Whatever. Her shirt is off)
1:00 – Movie ends, my arms are getting sore, been kissing her neck and shoulders for a while, have not been able to get her to:
A) shut up.
B) turn over.
C) actively engage said kisses.
1:03 – Sequel to movie begins.
2:00 – She starts participating in the making out stuff, and politely tells me that for religious reasons she is saving her virginity until marriage. I completely understand, when it comes to faith beliefs like that, I respect whatever choices you make, cool, no hassle, and we start fooling around. I respect other peoples fairy tales.
2:30 – She lets me go down on her. I’m excited, I’ve finished her off about 2 or 3 times, I feel like a champ, but I’m still completely clothed and have not been touched in any way, shape, or form. As I’m still being all sexy-like, I casually say, “What about me?”
2:31 – She informs me that the bathroom is right over there, and tells me I can take care of myself in the shower. I think I’ll just hold it. (WTF?)
2:45 – We’ve been silent, cuddling. Hey, this is nice, I love cuddling, she is comfy, and she’s not talking, this is good.
2:50 – Out of silence, she whispers, “I see demons. Yours are black.”
2:52 – I shit myself. (Not literally) Maybe I could make it out that window.
3:00 – I learn that my demons are angry, and she is scared of them. She tells me that she has been exorcised on two occasions and it’s helped a lot. I don’t inquire as to how much, precisely.
3:05 – I try to be supportive because this doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you just go around telling everybody, and more or less keep my mouth shut. God I want to try cocaine.
3:10 – Sleep for her, another hour of being stiff as a board, and scared before I pass out.
9:00am – Her mother knocks and I, all 5’10 170 lbs of me, attempts to hide under the blankets. Mother comes in and nonchalantly tells her that they are going to a friend’s house for dinner. Asks her if the older gentleman under the blanket wants to come. I decline. I tell her I have to go return some overdue books at the library.
9:15am – I leave to return some overdue library books.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish everyday at 8am EST.
Instagram: @phicklephilly Facebook: phicklephilly