Michelle – Chapter 1 – A Brand New Day

I think this is why I started this blog. I have been wanting to write this story for a very long time, but just have not had the will or energy to write anything. But since I’ve made some changes in my life, the art has returned to me and it’s flourishing. I have two friends that I socialize with. One of them is a brilliant artist who smokes too much weed and drinks too much coffee just to function all of the time. Her name is Trish. She’s not doing anything with her talent. Soon she’ll be 30 and will have smoked her youth away. The other one is always saying he needs to start writing a blog again. My friend Johnny R. His would be brilliant. I even went so far as to tell him that I would pay him $20 in beers if he would just publish four blog posts. But what’s his problem? Complacency and vice. He has been with the same girlfriend for the last 8 years. She’s older than he is, she owns the house they live in, and her family owns the shore house they stay in during the summer. He loves adderal, Budweiser, tobacco, cocaine, gambling and hookers. That’s a lot of vice. The secret to moving forward in life? Forgive everyone. Including yourself. If you have resentment for anything in your life, you have to constantly maintain those thoughts in your head. You only have to forgive ONCE. Let go of the bars that are keeping you in your rusted cage and take a step forward. Just one step. In any direction. Just one step. But these people have it all in their heads and they just never do it. Don’t get me wrong, I like both of these people very much, but it’s just sad they can’t grow as people.

I am determined to move forward and tell these stories. My stories.

I had just returned from New York. I was working at a consulting firm and they laid off a bunch of us because business was slow. I was kind of tired of Manhattan anyway. I took a job selling advertising for a news agency in Philadelphia. It was the Fall of 2007.

It was a big company, but out of all of the women that worked there, only two were absolutely beautiful. One was blonde and one was a brunette. I met the brunette in my department and loved her immediately and would always try to talk to her. She had some loser boyfriend who would play video games every night and ignore her while she sat on the couch and knit. Pretty pathetic, right? I once told her if I she were at my house sitting on the sofa, I’d throw the X Box out the window. Because that chick had to be way more fun than any video game.

But the other beauty was the blonde. Michelle.  This chick had hit the genetic lottery. 27 years old. 5’11”.  Model pretty. Slamming body, and great legs. As a matter of fact she was a former print and runway model and a National Champion swimmer. Swam with Olympian Amanda Beard. She was much younger than me and everybody wanted her and loved her. The thing about her was that she was very nice. She worked in billing and although I thought she was attractive, I really didn’t ever consider her as a romantic target. She was just too amazing and hot for me to bother.

Or so I thought.

She had moved to Philly a few years before from Delaware. Who wants to live in Delaware? She had broken up with her boyfriend that she had been with since she was 15. I know right? He was a house painter who smoked weed and seemed the type that couldn’t “work for the man.” She grew weary of his immaturity and they broke up.

Michelle was also friends with this little weasel that worked somewhere in our department. I never understood that relationship. He was in love with her like Dudley Moore was in love with Susan Anton. (google it youngsters) Like I said, she worked in billing and was growing tired of it. Michelle was making decent money but thought she could make more in ad sales. Advertising sounds sexy, but it is a grinding 9 to 5 job filled with rejection and despair. So her weasel friend warned her against it. But she went and spoke to my then boss, Herbert. Herbert was married and had a good degree. Married, a few kids, the usual drill. But he had eyes for Michelle as well. But like I said, she was light years out of these clown’s league.

Herbert wanted to bring her onto our little team. Our crew consisted of me, some young guy who seemed semi-retarded and mushy, a plain woman who had most of the accounts and hardly ever came in, and this Jersey Shore type guy who was greek, handsome, fit, tan, and had an I.Q around room temperature. He hardly came in either. He had been assigned some accounts and his stuff just rolled in. On any given day, the retard, the mom, and Jersey Shore would all be there. Retard would be making his calls, Mom would be working on her stuff and then leaving early and Jersey Shore would be playing online blackjack on his computer. You’ve seen his the type, in the club. Like a pack of four or five of them in their striped shirts and red bull cocktails, and pockets full of rohypnol. I’m half kidding. I got a kick out of Jersey Shore guy. I would make fun of him to his face and he liked it.

So Herbert wants to bring her aboard.  She’s never sold anything in her life but I know she could do well. Just show up and talk about the product and the guy will probably buy from her just so Michelle comes in his store again. Herbert wants her so he can see her everyday and be close to her. Michelle denies this to this day, but I know people. Hey, if I were Herbert in his domestic existence I would have done the same thing. But at that time I was no one in that company. Just the oldest dude on the team but with the most experience in sales. That was all that was needed.

One day I had an issue with the billing on the very first account I had brought in. It was Trump Casino in Atlantic City. I was so proud of that account. At the time I had no idea that Trump was slow pay. Sometimes, no pay. This may seem ironic at this moment in time, but it was known for years in Jersey that Trump was bad pay. He put hundreds of hard-working solid people out of work because he has a history of not paying his bills. Not kicking our current presidential candidate, but for this forum, the guy is a well-known deadbeat in Atlantic City, I’m shocked more people haven’t come forward in the last couple of months.

So I had to go down to billing and figure it out. But I was new and I didn’t know where it was. So I went to Michelle and asked her. She seemed annoyed that she had to deal with me. Maybe she was just tired. She starts giving me directions and I’m not getting it. The building was huge. Finally she simply gave up and said;  “I’ll show you.”

So here goes this gorgeous tall goddess walking down the hall. Her calves like upside down bowling pins, and her high heels clicking against the tile floor. Here’s me, scuttling along behind her in my cheap old suit and cheap shoes with rubber soles. The soles squeak with every step, so it’s like seeing Aphrodite being followed by Sponge Bob Squarepants.

Pathetic. We get to the department and she turns and goes back to her office. I felt like a loser.

But that was all was about to change.

The Michelle story is epic. I will publish a new chapter every other week over the next 7 months.

Enjoy!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

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Valerie – Love Me Tinder – Date 4 – Midtown Fall Festival

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

Here we go again.  On my last date when we went to El Rey, we thought we might meet up the next Wednesday for something. I said drinks, (Yay!) She said Fringe Festival. (Boo!) But as Wednesday approached I just wasn’t feeling it so she didn’t reach out and neither did I. I felt a twinge guilty, so I reached out to her last week. I gave her my availability and she said how about a late movie on Friday. I didn’t want to finish up at the spa at 8:30 on a Friday night and then have to travel to Old City to sit in a movie theater for 2 hours. She was okay with that, so we settled on an early brunch Saturday. She had to attend her son’s football game later in the afternoon.

So I devised a plan.

What I really wanted to do was to go to the Midtown Fall Street Festival with my friend Johnny on Saturday, but he had a change of plans and it was supposed to rain so he couldn’t come down. I was determined to get to the festival even if it was for some of the day.

So I meet Valerie at my favorite little Rittenhouse breakfast spot, Rachael’s. We order, and of course I get no help in regard to payment. But, Rachael’s is inexpensive so my wallet doesn’t take that hard of a hit. We sit at one of the little tables and catch up. I want to tell her about the events of the last week and a half. But somehow she hijacks the conversation and starts going on and on about her stuff. I think I got the whole tale about how she went from partner at someplace she worked to her current gig as CFO at a school. I did eventually get to tell my story. Breakfast was good as always and it’s not raining, so we decide to walk east. We go by the Kimmel and she looks at one of the posters and says she’s seeing that in NY in a month. When we get to Broad she wants to go south and check out what’s happening at the Wilma Theater. After that we come upon 13th and Locust. That’s where the Street Festival I wanted to go to starts. So since we have an hour or so to kill before she has to go to her son’s game. We stroll through it, and I stop for a Land Shark beer. You have to drink in the streets if you go to a street festival! She is looking at these two cocktails they have and of course she gets one, and I pay for it.

We continue to stroll through the festival. It’s not crazy busy yet, so it’s nice. I run into a good friend of mine pushing his little son in a stroller. His son is 11 months old and cute as hell. My friend knows that I’m writing these stories and how I’m trying to date age appropriate women. I introduce them and it’s all smiles.

I decide to walk her back through Washington Square to the Headhouse District where she lives. We’re chatting, and she’s telling me stories and talking about her family. We get to the corner of South and Lombard and she says she’s going to go because she has to pick up some things at CVS. We agree that we’ll both try to do better to keep in touch in between dates, but I don’t know if there’s going to be another one.

She’s a nice lady, but I just don’t feel the magic. If I was feeling the power for a woman and she said maybe we’ll do something on a Wednesday, I would have leapt at that, and locked it down. I just didn’t even feel like going. Saturday morning was okay, but I’m just not feeling it. So I think if there is a next time I may just tell her it’s not working. Maybe we could just go to the movies occasionally. That would be cool. She likes films and so do I. Could be a good weekend matinée buddy.

I’m really trying here. This is a struggle. But the heart wants what it wants. I’ve decided that I’m not going to do what I should do and do what I have always done. Let the shark swim and let the universe unfold. These women are boring and I’m not interested. Despite their circumstances, it’s just not a match. i don’t want to be here. I don’t like here.

We kiss and hug goodbye like always, and off she goes. I watch as she crosses the street toward CVS. I walk down 2nd and turn the corner on South Street. I have a text. It’s right on time.

June: “I’m thirsty.” (See: June – Runs with Scissors)

I text her back. “I’ll see you at the festival in 20 minutes.”

She may not be hot, but I know she likes to party. I set this deal up last night, knowing Valerie would be gone by 2pm. I stop at Milkboy South at 4th Street. Make a restroom pit stop. When I come out of the restroom, I order a shot of Jameson. Then I’m out the door smoking a cig and on my way back to the Midtown Street Festival for the rest of the day with June.

Tune in next Monday for the beginning of my epic journey with Michelle! Will the hero get the girl? Will we stay together? Get married? Kids? Find out on Halloween!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

June – 9/2016 – Runs with Scissors

And here we are with yet another Tinder date. I chatted with June for only a short time before we exchanged numbers. We were texting for a bit and it was going well. She seemed fun and age appropriate. I have been trying to spend time with women in my age range but it’s been a struggle. If you read my last blog post, (Rebecca, Dark Wings of Destiny) you can tell that hasn’t been working all that well.

I was trying to figure out a day we could meet for a drink. I told her I was off on Saturdays so we could meetup then. She said that is usually the day she likes to wander, and I told her I enjoyed the same. She asked if I had a dog, and I told her I did not. She said she’d supply the dog. Whatever. But Saturday came and I didn’t hear anything. I reached out and she said she said she had already wandered and done her errands earlier in the day. In Rittenhouse no less! But I kind of didn’t care anyway. I was happy sipping a drink and watching Netflix at home by then.

We continued texting into the evening until finally she said she wanted to talk on the phone. I haven’t done that with anyone yet on Tinder and was a little apprehensive. Not that I mind talking on the phone, but I didn’t think it was necessary.

My phone rings and I miss the call. I call her right back and we connect. So we’re chatting away. I can tell she’s drinking which is not a bad thing. Loosens up the tongue. During our conversation she begins to tell me about her day. Apparently, she was standing on the edge of her bathtub cleaning the walls. She has one of those shower head attachments that can be removed and are connected to a flexible hose. She’s using the shower head to rinse down the shower walls and everything is getting wet. Well she loses her footing and begins to fall. Now, we have all heard about accidents in the home, and people falling in their bathrooms having bad injuries and even death. So she slips off the tub edge and slams butt first onto or into the toilet. I don’t know what her bathroom layout is but the commode must be in close proximity to the tub. It sort of breaks her fall but when she hit it she broke the tank. Water goes everywhere. The shower head is also still running. The tank immediately evacuates its contents onto the floor. Good thing that’s where the clean water is located! She is in a great deal of pain but thankfully didn’t hit her head. She scrambles to her feet and manages to get the shower turned off and then goes for the wall spigot behind the toilet. She cranks that shut and the water stops. What a mess! But she is okay and escapes with only a bruise on her backside. But it’s a nasty bruise. (She later showed me a pic) The whole thing is a bit funny and harrowing but she is okay. It could have been a lot worse.

So the conversation is going well and I’m really enjoying it. She is smart, and funny. It’s a lively chat. I’ll bear that in mind in the future. June tells me that people can sound great in text and once you get them on the phone they fall flat. Why didn’t I think of this? In this modern world where everyone texts and does loads of social media, people don’t have the conversation skills anymore. But once you get someone on the phone, it’s a great way to screen out the people who can’t hold a solid conversation. Better to find out someone is a dullard before you’re stuck out in public with them on a date. So I may pull this move in the future.

She tells me she wants to meet up that night. I tell her, it’s 9pm and I’m down to a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and I’m not getting back into uniform for anyone. She says: “Oh, you’re a fuddy duddy.”

If she only knew…

She says she’s been invited to go see some band play at some place on Van Pelt Street at 10pm. Again, I thank her for the invite and tell her I’m not going. Had it been Rebecca, I would already be at Van Pelt waiting for her. I’m such a fickle asshole. She’s drinking more and so am I and it’s really going well. She’s a spitfire and a blast to talk to. I tell her I’m available Sunday after 4pm and we agree to meet for a drink. So the drinking and chatting goes on and on. Now she’s smoking marijuana as well. She decides that she’s rather talk to me on the phone than go see this band on Van Pelt. I’m surprisingly enjoying our conversation and am looking forward to meeting her. She sounds super fun. I learned a lot about her in that conversation. She has two children, a boy and a girl. She was married for many years  and it ended long ago, and was in a relationship for 7 years after that with some man who cheated on her and left. Or so I thought. But as the truth serum she was gulping down took hold, the truth was revealed. Apparently this other woman was someone they invited into their bed for a three-way. I suppose June’s boyfriend took a liking to their little plaything and ran off with her. June described the girl as younger, fat and covered in tattoos. This all sounds gross to me, but who am I to judge the dalliances of others. I can tell June is a very sexual woman, which is fine. At her age she should be over all of her mind and body issues. She’s drunk and horny. I think this gal has led a wild life. But I like that. I have had a very colorful, action packed adventurous life, and I like people who have had the same. It creates a rich history for a person and they are always more interesting. But, at some point well into the call she simply falls asleep on the phone. I’m like; “Hello? June? Are you there?”

Crickets.

I hang up and look at the length of the call on my phone. We were chatting for 4 hours and 30 minutes! I’m stunned. I’ve never been on the phone that long. (That I can remember) I head off to bed.

The Date

Sunday morning around 8:30am I get a text from her that says simply: “Good Morning.” I have a bunch of stuff to do so I don’t respond. Not to be rude, but I have to get ready and I don’t want to start another all day conversation until I have the time. Around 11:00am I respond, with: “Hello.” She responds at 4:45pm with: “What a lovely day!” Of course I go with my main objective: “Are we meeting for a drink?” She says: “You would think after a four-hour call I would retain details.” Well, she did fall asleep at the end. So I go again with: “Are we meeting for a drink?” She says yes and when? I tell her I am available now. She says she has to wait for her daughter to come pick up the dog and asks if after 6pm would work. I tell her that’s fine. (It would be about an hour from now) So I head to Square 1682 and grab a cider and chat with the bartender and servers.

At 6:15 she tells me she is on her way. She rolls in around 6:30. Here’s the thing. She’s 5’2″ and sturdy. I like tall and short women. I prefer tall because it translates to a longer leg factor. But a petite woman can be just as beautiful. It makes no difference to me. But I realize compared to her photos, this woman before me doesn’t measure up. Hands tell a great deal about a person. June rode horses her whole life. Her hands are strong. Stronger than mine. In her Tinder pics you never get a really good clear shot of her face. She looks like there has been quite a bit of mileage on this one. She has a bit of a nose thing happening too. Normally I like a girl with an interesting proboscis, but hers just looks masculine.  Not horrible, but a little rough. Aged. She’s a fun girl but just not attractive enough.

So we hang out and we’re having a good time chatting and drinking and laughing at the bar. She would be a good girl to have as a friend that maybe you occasionally fool around with, but I can’t see me pursuing her. Which kind of sucks. I mean… I’m already struggling to feel energy for Valerie. (Valerie – Love Me Tinder) Maybe June could hang as a friend to drink with at some good dives. She said she liked going to places like that. I would dig that as well.

Okay, so maybe I’ll keep her around and we’ll see what happens. But girlfriend is off the table.

We decide to wrap it up at Square 1682 after a couple of hours. The bill comes and again, the wallet comes out but she never pulls out her card. And forgive me dear readers, but after two incidents like this with Valerie, and the fact that this woman is not really that hot, I say…”Little help?”

I see what appear to be credit cards in the wallet but she goes for cash and it looks like it’s only seven or eight dollars. It’s 2016. Going out and drinking and eating like Gods is very expensive in this town. Even my much younger ex-girlfriend always kicked in unless I insisted I pay. (Future post: Anabelle Lee) So I feel bad and a little suspicious at this point so I take like $5 from her and pay the damn bill. I’m not cheap. I’m a very generous man. But in this day and age we all need to help. But I will give you this little spoiler. The very next night, I had a date with a different lady and I paid for her two drinks and her fare home. Sadly, you’ll see another aspect as to why Phicklephilly really is the perfect name for this column. I’m really learning a lot about myself. Try writing down everything you’re up to. it’s eye-opening, enlightening, and most of all funny.

So we leave the bar and she says she lives down in Washington Square. We walk south to Pine and say goodnight. We kiss. It’s sexual. Not your standard goodnight smooch. Some one who sucks on your tongue on your first date digs you. (It wasn’t me who did that) So I know based on our 4 hour drunken conversation and this vibe, it would be effortless for me to close this bit of work. But as Ian Gillam says in the Deep Purple song, “It’s not the kill… It’s the thrill of the chase.”

And damn it if I don’t love that part. So I may hang again with June again, but it will be in the afternoon at McGlinchey’s drinking $2 wines and smoking cigarettes.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Katsumi – 9/2016 – Update

I got a text from Katsumi out of the blue last night. It said: “Getting rid of Tinder… So if you don’t see me, that’s why.”

I told her I was dropping it as well. (Bold faced lie) Then I asked her if she had any interest in seeing me again. Her reply was: I am not sure if it logistically makes sense. I pretty much have only 1 free Saturday every 2 weeks. I have kids all the other days. When I have kids, I can leave them home for an hour or two but I can’t go far. So how are we going to date? It is close to impossible unless it is someone closer. Know what I mean?”

My response: “I think it comes down to is if you are interested. I am interested in you and I am attracted to you. I enjoyed my time with you. Even if I could only see you sometimes at your convenience I would be happy.” (Bold faced lie)

Katsumi: “Thank you! I would like to stay friends right now if you are interested.”

Me: That’s fine. I think you have a lovely spirit.” (Yes… another Bold faced lie)

I have plenty of friends. Clearly Katsumi is still married, and it appears that even though her older son is 16 (the one with autism) he can’t be left unsupervised around his brother or in the house for long. At 51 her life still seems kinda crappy. Her husband is still on the deed and still pays all the bills, and currently Katsumi is unemployed. So she needs to get her affairs and life in order before she starts dating again.

So this one is a fail. I’m not going to reach out to her again.

But if at some point she straightens out her shit and wants to see me again… I will strike like a cobra.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

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I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on TuesdaysWednesdays at 9am EST.

Charlene – 2015 to Present – Spiritual Innocence

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I was walking down the stairs from my building to Suburban Station. I don’t even remember why. There was a bunch of people coming through and I held the door for a group of ladies that were coming down behind me. This one attractive black woman wearing a hijab and a tunic was very appreciative that I was holding the door for everybody. She thanked me and actually stopped to chat. There seemed to be a very simple instant connection.

Charlene is obviously Muslim. We chatted awhile and I think she felt surprised that we were connecting. But she is very nice and has a pretty smile. I’ve had two girlfriends in the past that were black. I look forward to telling you those stories on here at PhicklePhilly. So we chatted and I exchanged numbers with her. I thought we could meet for lunch and I could get to know her better. I have had almost zero contact with any Muslim women. They simply don’t socialize with anyone outside of their circle. Someone once told me that if you saw a woman walking around in a burka that meant her husband was in jail, because once a black man entered the penal system he usually joined the Muslims that were already in the can. But frankly I think that might be bullshit. If anyone knows the reason, please send me a message or leave a comment.

There was some texting but nothing concrete. Apparently she had been laid off from her job and that’s why I met her at my building. There was some sort of job service, career training agency on the 2nd floor. They had so many people going there everyday, that the building gave them access to their own elevator. Which ironically, when you saw who the majority of people who were going to the job center, it almost felt like segregation.

A few weeks passed and I ran into her again in Suburban Station. We went to the food court at Comcast and had a nice little lunch. It was obviously noisy but we didn’t mind. We were happy just to be sharing a meal.

Charlene seemed fascinated with me in general. She kept asking why a businessman like myself would be interested in her. I told her it didn’t matter. She seemed sweet and nice. She took my hands across the table and looked at them, turning them over to look at my palms and feel them. It was as if this was her first physical contact with a caucasian man. But I kind of liked the attention. We decided to make a date. I asked her if she’d like to see a movie with me on the weekend. She has two daughters, like eight and thirteen. She said if she could get a sitter we’d go out.

This was some groundbreaking stuff for me. All I’d seen of her was her face and her hands. That’s it. The rest of her was completely covered up. I asked her if she was always Muslim and she said the last man she was with was so she got into character. She had expressed that she was debating whether to go back to wearing her regular clothes. But that’ll be her choice. When do you ever see a white guy walking down the street holding hands with a black muslim woman? I’m going to go head and say never! I asked her why she was no longer with that man and she said he was too controlling.

Insecurity is a bitch, guys. Believe in yourself and trust your woman.

So I told her I had to get back to the office and she had to go as well. I walked her up the steps and into the vestibule on 16th street to say goodbye. That’s when I took her face in my hands and kissed her on her soft full lips. She seemed surprised but I saw a green light, so I went for it. She smiled and I could tell it was all okay. I told her I’d be thinking about her and that I’d see her soon. It was a pretty bold move to kiss a black Muslim woman on the lips in public.

But fortune favors the bold.

That Saturday I set up where we were to meet. We were going to see “Meet the Patels.” A wonderful film by the way. See it. It was playing at the Ritz theater in society hill on Walnut Street. I love the Ritz theaters because they always show quality films and it’s quiet and full of responsible adults. Plus the seats are really comfy.

Charlene was driving in, and she seemed to be really struggling to find her way into the city. I was on the phone with her and it was very stressful for both of us. I’m a stickler for being on time when I go to anything related to the arts in any way. And when I say “on time” I mean 15 minutes early. Anyway,  we finally got her there and made it into the movie.  We got some popcorn and settled in the back of the theater and watched the film.

It was a bit of a chilly day. Overcast I remember. After the film we walked around Society Hill a bit. She was a little chilly so I put my coat around her. I was still wearing my signature blazer so I was fine. Normally I’m impervious to the cold so no worries there. We sat down on a little bench and chatted. There was some kissing and cuddling but she was getting cold and it was late so we headed back to her car. More kissing and grabbing ensued. She even said things like “when we have sex” and great things like that. So this was all very exciting to me. She was kind enough to drop me off in Rittenhouse.

There is something simple and sweet about Charlene. She isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but I would rather spend time with someone who is genuinely a nice person than some one that is smart but not a nice person. I’ve met plenty of those assholes. We all have. But there is something to say about the simplicity of Charlene. She’s really happy to spend time with me. There are many things she doesn’t know or understand, but she doesn’t really need to know all of that stuff. She works at her job, and takes care of her house and her two daughters. (Whom I have not yet met.) I kind of like that she seems proud that I’m interested in her. She also seems a bit submissive which is refreshing. Sometimes it’s nice to just spend time with someone who never says shit like “My kind of crazy…” or “I’m a raging feminist.” I think Charlene is the kind of girl who is just happy not to be controlled by some insecure man. She really feels special when you take her out and is very appreciative. It makes a man feel good that he’s with her. That’s rare these days.

So I kept in touch with her but schedules were off so I didn’t see her for a while. I don’t know if I reached out to her or if she to me but I remember speaking with her on the phone. She seemed upset. When I inquired what was wrong she said that they were somewhere and somehow her thirteen year old had gotten in her car and started it and smashed into something. Her kid was fine but that is some alarming shit. She said that she couldn’t deal with her eldest daughter and she wasn’t listening to her anymore. I’m thinking regardless, how did the kid get the keys? I think she wanted me to give her some assistance, but I couldn’t do that at the time. I don’t know if she didn’t have anyone to turn to or what, but I couldn’t do that. I mean, we’d had lunch together. I took her to the movies. I can’t be giving her $500 to fix her front end. I’ve paid out so much in my life, it just didn’t make sense. I like to help people and I’ve been described as a giver, but it was just too early in the game.

I still liked her and was sorry I couldn’t help but that sort of puts you off a person for a bit. But she was still on my mind because she was such a sweet gentle woman and I was attracted to her!  Some months went by and she texted me out of the blue. That was two weeks ago. We’re supposed to meet up for lunch again soon so I’ll continue this saga then. If she doesn’t bail.

Update: She got a job! She had a work conflict so she couldn’t come down. Maybe we’ll go out again sometime.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Valerie – Love Me Tinder – Date 3

3rd date!  Here I am going out with Valerie again. She’s nice, calm, age appropriate. (55) I’ve always dated younger. It’s not like I pursue them, it just happens. I’m good with young people. Always have been. My last two girlfriends were 27 when I met them. The girl before that was 32 and the one before that was 22, a rebound off another 27 yr old back in 2004! So these are the choices I have made over the last 10 years.

The reason that most of all of these relationships fail is because the women I’m dating are in  a completely different place in their lives than me. We meet, we date, we fall in love and within a short about of time they start getting feelings about being married and having children. I’ve already done that. Married, child, divorced, and then paid over $100,000 in child support over the next 15 years. I knew that if I married any of these women and it failed, my Social Security checks would be going to them. That would be financially catastrophic and I’d never come back from that. even if it worked, I’d rather have a cocktail and a cig than push a stroller through Rittenhouse ever! I love my daughter, but I’m done!

They say doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result, is a sign of madness. I have met plenty of people like that. So that’s why I’m trying to date women that are more age appropriate.  I recently was chatting with a woman in her twenties and she said: “I usually date men twice my age.” When I was finished bashing my head against the marble counter, I realized I still want to date younger women. But I must try to change and grow. Or… I could just date everybody of all ages and see what happens.

The Date

I arrived at El Rey for our date at 4:40. Threw back a can of Tecate, and chatted with the hostess and a few of the servers. Valerie’s texted me that her meeting ran late and she was just getting home to walk her dog. She arrived at 5:15 and I was already onto Tecate number two. I get a table in the back and she is escorted back to me by the hostess. She looked great. Blonde hair looking sharp. She had been down the shore for the weekend, so she was more tan than when I last saw her. She wore a blue dress with matching earrings and high heels. I was thinking, Is this how she dresses up for dinner? I’m in. We both automatically went in for the “greeting kiss” which felt natural.

Great thing was, on Sunday they do mix and match with some of their dishes so we could get some small bites and share different things. We caught up and had good conversation. I noticed that she has really nice hands. That’s a big one for me. A person’s hands tell a great deal about their health and lifestyle. I don’t know how I escaped that one myself!

Anyway, the food was great. We even ordered a pair of double Espolon tequilas on the rocks! I was happy to be with her, and after a couple of hours we wrapped it up. She was parked a few blocks away so I naturally walked her to her car. We decided that we wanted to see each other again and maybe do something in the way of the Fringe Festival, (which I don’t really care for) or a street festival or a matinée on a Saturday, (which I love).

We got to her car, and said goodbye. We hugged and kissed and it was nice. I remember her hugging me tightly and I could feel that she really liked me. (Well she did ‘Super Like’ me on Tinder!) So she took off and I walked home. It felt good. This could be a nice normal relationship if it gets going. But I’m not going to rush it or anything. I like a nice slow dating arc.

There is only a few concerns. I am not feeling any euphoria when it comes to this lady. I’m accustomed to that when I am seeing someone. Also… I am not thrilled that on our last two dates her wallet never came out. Not even a little help? Even my last girlfriend who was much younger than me kicked in because going out is expensive. It’s 2016!

So we’ll see…

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Rebecca – Chapter 3 – Dark Wings of Destiny

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

Rebecca was right next to me. I could feel the energy. I felt really close to her. “The city is so beautiful” she said. She turned to me. “You are” I replied.

And that’s when our lips met. My Lord. I’m too old for this. Wait…no I’m not. I kissed her. Her lips were soft as she yielded to me. She folded into me like an old friend. It was just like I just stepped off stage at the Troubadour in Los Angeles and she loved the song that I had written about her. I was ageless in that moment. Overcome. Beautiful. This can’t be happening but it is. Her lips are sweet and a little sticky. Minty. Human.

Her pupils were so big, it’s like her eyes were black instead of green. Her cheeks flushed and she giggled. I gently brushed her dark hair from her face and behind her ear. She slipped from me and cocked her head. It was as if she were trying to see me in a different way. “Let’s go look at some more stuff” she said, smiling. All I could hear was Midnight Moses playing in my head by the Dead Daisies. 

We continued to wander though the museum. Just going from room to room. I was making her laugh a lot about some things because that’s what I do. I think at this point it was more nerves than game. I was smitten. I’m like a child at this point. I really am. I’m just amazed to be alive at this moment.  But this is the old me. The new, old me. I shouldn’t follow this path.

We went into this one room and the whole room is art in architecture. Glorious big rooms that are incredible and opulent. We are looking around the room and I’m behind her and she just leans back into me, and she is again in my arms. Is it the art? Is it me? It can’t be me. This is nuts, but the euphoria is glorious. I love this. This is my favorite part of everything. The beginning. Ignition. I’ve always been this way, much to the disappointment of the women in my life. But for right now I am living in this moment. None of this makes any sense but I am mainlining this feeling. She turns in my arms and nuzzles her lips and nose to mine. Her eyes are smokey and dark. Lashes flash and she smiles. She looks deeply into my eyes. Rebecca pulls me into her world and kisses me again.

And again…

There was a moment when we were sitting in one of the galleries and she was so excited by a work of art she grabbed my hand. She clasped it tightly in both of her hands as she described her passion for the work.  It was one of my favorites as well. The couple coming home from the carnival. I feel her soft hand clasp mine. She’s holding my hand in her lap. Dopamine drops and I am blind. The work was beautiful. But, I could no longer see it. It was gone. As was I. All I could feel in that moment was the back of my hand against Rebecca’s warm thigh.

I think we were at the PMA for 3 maybe 4 hours. I have no sense of time at this point with Rebecca. If I never hear from her again, I’m okay. This was a special sacred moment that I can wrap myself up in tonight. It’ll be just like waking up from a beautiful dream.

Obviously we did get around to inquiries. Being overwhelmed by beauty and art only lasts so long. I asked he why she is on Tinder. She said that she wanted to meet someone good. Someone that understood her and liked the things she liked. She told me at her age her friends aren’t really friends at all. They are just a bunch of young fools that smoke a bunch of weed and get drunk all of the time. She has ambition and wants to make something of herself. (she did seem really mature while we were texting) She told me she kind of went on Tinder to try. She gave me an example of a conversation she had with a boy her age recently. They were chatting and she asked him what he was looking for and he said he’d like to have some fun. When she asked him to define “fun” he sent her a photo of his genitals. That is some sad textbook shit right there. She explained to me that as an emergency room nurse, she gets her fill of seeing plenty of junk on a regular basis. “I don’t want to see his dick. I saw 5 dicks today and I had to put a catheter in and 85-year-old dick today”

My unblinking response: Okay…..okay…

She said she met another guy. She loved his mind and political views and he was just a really smart guy. She thought maybe her love of his mind and heart would translate into sex but she just wasn’t lit when they kissed. Women know. It’s either on in their minds and bodies or it’s not. Sadly boys, men do not have this ability. She said she went on 4 dates with him and it was done. He was divorced and really into his kids, I think she said they were 16 and 19. He wanted to have her over and they were going to have dinner with the gang, and it all seemed weird because the teens were a little uncomfortable with their 54-year-old father bringing over a girl who was only 4 years older than the 19-year-old son.

Fuck.  I’m jaded as hell and I hate that story. But it really came down to the fact that there was no chemistry. And that’s critical because I have made that kind of lightening strike twice in the same place in the last decade. But what I noticed was she liked him but just wasn’t feeling the intimacy when they kissed. It just wasn’t there. She said she really liked him as a man and tried to keep the friendship going but he realized there was no fire so he withdrew. He has since moved on and even recently married.

So is this chick into older men? I suppose so because she is so bright and mature in her head. She’s got the brain of Emily Dickenson and the body of Vanessa Hudgens.

What am I supposed to do with that?  I never saw any of this coming when I started this blog. I thought I would be just writing about my experiences with women here in Philly over the last 10 years and this curve ball blindsided me.

She told me her dad is a big guy who is from New York and he’s a caricature of a New Yorker. Works for the railroad. Her uncle travels the world and sounds like a cool guy that works and makes enough money and then moves to the Philippines and lives like a king for a year and then does it again somewhere else. That sounds awesome. I don’t have the freedom to do that but if I did you know I’d be there in Thailand risking arrest every year until I die. But I digress…

We wander back to the first floor and are nearing the exit. She validates her parking because apparently she is a member of the museum which I find super cool. We walk out the door and go to the elevator to the parking garage. I didn’t know the PMA had this. It must be new.  I walk her to her car. It’s dusty and blue. We do the perfunctory statement. I like you. I want to see you again. But those words are hollow. I think I may never see her again. This all seems so unreal. I have not felt this in years. Please don’t let this happen again. But I want the drug of love. Not love. Just the drug. I feel like a helpless addict.

She looks up at me under the flourescent lights of the stark concrete shapeless parking garage. Her green eyes flash in the light like pale emeralds. She runs her hands through her thick mane of dark hair. I watch as it tumbles back to her shoulders through her fingers. Her neatly manicured fingernails. The lean muscles in her arms. She smiles. Sort of a sly, half-smile. Like she knows something about me that I haven’t revealed. I think she senses it in my eyes. I smile and try to clear that. But she sees me. It’s unsettling. She places her petite hands together likes she’s praying, and then spreads them and reaches for me. Her hands hit my shoulders and pull me toward her. She kisses me. The kiss is deep and wet. Her tongue swirls. I am lost in this sensous moment.

But just for a moment.

Rebecca: “I like you. The Fringe Festival is happening soon. Can we go to something?”

You all know my answer.

She places her foot against the door and adjusts her shoe. I steal a glance at her well turned leg. She lingers on the laces of her sneaker. It’s taking too long. It’s as if she wants to remind me of what I like. She knows. She’s reading me. Come on. Nobody can do that. Maybe it’s all in my head, but her legs are exquisite and she knows she has touched the beyond.

She drives away and I am back on the street behind the museum. No fish fell from the sky. I order an UBER. He arrives in 8 minutes and I am on my way back to Rittenhouse. I am sitting in the back of the Toyota Avalon and my mind is reeling. I need to hold it together. He’s lost for some reason and I have to guide the driver home. I get out and realize I haven’t eaten in over 8 hours. I stop at my local corner shop and order a slice to go. I get back to the bat cave and text her.

“Home safe. Had a lovely evening with you.”

Crickets.

Panic.

“I was just about to text you the same thing! See you soon! XOXO- Rebecca”

We’ll just have to see how this one plays out. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but if it goes well,  I will be getting airbags installed in the headboard of my bed.

Old habits die hard.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on TuesdaysWednesdays at 9am EST.