Scarlett – Sexy chica de tamaño más – Part I

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

I recently went down my list of all of the people I have ever chatted with on Tinder. I may not have spoken to them in a while. I just wanted to touch everyone to simply say, “hello” but mostly to keep feeding this blog with new material. Life once fed the art, but now that I’m meeting so many women, the art is now feeding life. When I started this blog I made a list of over 20 women I had met over the last 10 years and decided they should be a part of this tome. I thought I’d simply write about them all, and maybe a couple other people as they entered my life during the time it took me to cover them all. But I’ve been meeting so many people I can’t keep up with them all! As a writer it’s become a wonderful problem to have.

Like the days when I was in a band or even before that when I was into drawing, I only made art for myself. The pictures I drew were of things I loved and the songs I wrote and our band played were for us. This blog is about my expression. I haven’t written anything in years. (Unless copy for award-winning advertising campaigns counts!) I am happy to say I am writing again. The best compliment you can pay someone is to copy them or try to be like them. I am putting words and stories where there were none before. I feel closest to my creator when I create.

One of the women I said hello to that responded was Scarlett. So we start chatting and she responds with: “Hey! Sorry, I’m rarely on here. Just saw your text.” But then I get a regular text from her on my phone, not Tinder. I’m confused, but who knows? Maybe alcohol was involved. I don’t remember talking to her or exchanging phone numbers. She asked how I’ve been and how we had a whole conversation. She starts going into this story about how we talked when she had just moved back to the US  from the Dominican Republic.  She says she is currently living in University City. I tell her my neighborhood and she says she spends a lot of time down there. I ask her to meet me for a drink. I also provide her with days I’m available. Then she drops this bomb:

Scarlett: “Why should I give you a shot after all this time that has passed?

Me: “That is a choice only you can make.” (I just thought I swiped, she swiped and nothing happened)

Scarlett: “Well of course. But are you planning on making up for lost time?”

Me: “What? What lost time? We’ve never met!”

Scarlett: “Because you stood me up.”

Me: “That is simply not true.” (I’m thinking she’s crazy at this point)

I send her a screenshot of our last conversation on Tinder. I told her that was our last conversation on Tinder, then I never heard from her again. Then we spoke again today.

She then sent me a screenshot of our last conversation, but it was from October 2014. Two years ago! It was me texting her and telling her I had to go meet with a client so I couldn’t have lunch with her that day. I remember now I just didn’t feel like it, so I bailed.

So I obviously apologized. But I did explain to her I technically didn’t stand her up, I cancelled. She said I did it last-minute, but whatever, I don’t remember. But she accepted my apology and decided to give me another chance. But it’s been two years! She said it seemed odd because I was such a gent. So we decided to meet for drinks on Monday.

Stop back in 2 weeks to see what happens on our date.

 

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 Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Sun Stories – Achilles – The Bronze God

Part of the Wednesday series will be called “Sun Stories.” That’s any interesting things that happen at the tanning salon.

Here is another friend of mine, that I wanted to introduce to this story. So when I’m writing about my adventures and they are involved in the process or the dialogue, You’ll know who they are.

Achilles was a client of mine. I reached out to many clients that were in the system where I formerly worked selling advertising. He was one of the ones who got back to me. I went to see him at the time. He owns a tanning salon/spa and it was his slow season. Late Summer to early Fall. He hadn’t advertised with us before and I convinced him to give us a try. He gave me some ad artwork, and we went over frequency and budget. We ran the ads for about 12 weeks, but after a while we felt it wasn’t working.

He was ready to not renew the contract with me, but I came up with another idea. I came up with some really good ideas for ads to promote the salon. Instead of the standard coupon type ad, I created some really catchy copy with some great images, to capture the spirit of the place. So he decide to give me one more chance and ran for another 3 months.

During that time I would go into the salon on a weekly basis and chat with him about the copy and some ideas. We also became friends. He would tell me all about his challenges with his younger girlfriend. Achilles is a low-key, simple man. When I say simple, I don’t mean simple-minded. He is incredibly smart and talented in many ways. He just wants to live a simple and uncluttered life.

Born to Greek immigrants, he came to America when he was 6 years old. None of the had much and none of them even spoke English. But if you know anyone who is Greek, they are a great proud people. The Greeks had built their own civilization when many of us were still swinging from trees. They work in restaurants, stick together as a family, save their money, and then open their own businesses. Achilles was running around the city at age 10 delivering pizzas. He’s worked his entire life.

But he’s so much more than that. He can fix anything. Build anything. He’s got a head for mathematics and design. He’s good at running a business and making money. He can build structures, like housing. He can fix your car. He can take apart most mechanical appliances and repair them. His motto is, “Why should I pay someone to do it, if I can do it myself.”

Oh and did I mention he’s in great shape. At 47 he is muscular and really fit. 5’10 180 lbs pure muscle. He owns his own business. Has a beautiful house. A few nice cars, money in the bank, and a motorcycle. It seems like the perfect package. (It also almost seems like Phicklephilly is taking a turn with the other team here doesn’t it?)

So I would go into the salon every week, and Achilles would always be either complaining about his hot young girlfriend or his staff.  His girlfriend of 8 years is always creating arguments and fights out of nowhere. We have discussed this several times and we don’t know why she does it. She just does. He even came so close once to asking her to marry him, and he pulled back and didn’t because of her nonsense. If she could just be cool and just enjoy the calm life she has with him, he’d probably take a chance with her. But only time will tell.

One day for like the fourth time he’s complaining about his staff. This one doesn’t clean the place right. That one calls out because she has anxiety. This one is hung over. Weekend guy’s mom is dying again. I tell him maybe he should hire people who are a little more mature and a bit more reliable. I say this as the 10th beautiful, tan young thing walks by me in the lobby. I tell him that I like to work, and would love to work there as a part-time job at night. So after us building a business relationship for over 9 months his response was: “You’re hired.”

I started working 2 nights a week, and then I occasionally got the weekend schedule. When some people left and the schedule shook out I had most of the shifts. I worked Monday through Friday at the advertising job from 8:15 to 4:45, and worked every evening from 5 to 8 at the salon. Sunday I worked 11-4pm. My only day off was Saturdays. I was working 70 hours a week and loving it. I actually really love working at the salon. The clients are nice and it’s a fun and easy job. I’m a good sales guy, so he actually pays me commission for selling accessories.

I’ll probably stay in advertising as long as possible even though it’s a grinding thankless job. But Achilles and I are looking to open a gym or a spin bike studio somewhere in the city. If that happens we’ll be business partners. So stay tuned!

 

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.

Michelle – Chapter 4 – Two Coins in the Fountain

The company  is going to move the entire online department to a high-rise in center city. It was all new, beautiful and modern. About a week before we were to move there I was in my apartment in Jersey and I got a call from my boss, Herbert. He said he had been fired. He was crying on the phone. There is no crying at work. That’s what your apartment is for. When he told me, I knew he was probably the most sad because he wouldn’t be able to see Michelle anymore.

They brought in this 6’7″ goon from somewhere to replace him. We’ll call him the Russian. At first he seemed really cool, but they all do in the beginning. This is important. If you ever get hired by one guy, and then they bring in another guy to replace him it’s never the same. He never has the same investment in any of you because he didn’t choose you. He simply inherited you. So watch out. When they seem cool and fun in the beginning they usually turn out to be insecure weak middle management types that won’t last. But right up to the moment they leave they will make your life a living hell. Believe me. I’ve seen this over and over again in my career. But the only thing you have going for you is that he doesn’t know you. So if you endear him early on, life can be sustainable for at least 6 months before it all turns to rage and grinding resentment.

The Russian trusted me and knew I had talent as a sales guy, so he asked that I take Michelle out on some four-legged calls to help acclimate her to selling advertising. I was way more than happy to do so. We would go out on calls around the city.  One day we ended up at Nineteen at the Bellevue. It’s this cool bar/restaurant at the top of the Bellvue Stratford. My dad used to hang there in the 70’s. How could I go wrong? Follow in dad’s footsteps. You can sit out on these little balconies. I didn’t even know it existed, but she did. She knew many cool spots around the city back then. I was happy to spend time with this beauty, and happy to learn more about the city. We ended up sitting out on one of those balconies looking over the city and sipping martinis.

This was so much better than scuttling down the hallway after her to the billing department like when I was first hired.

One time we were out on calls at the King of Prussia Mall, I wanted to pick up cologne and she wanted to get some perfume. But when they ran our cards we were both were declined for lack of funds. We were poor back then. Maybe we just spent too much money. I think I had my paycheck on me, and I ended up going to a check cashing place so we could go drink after work. I did that and it worked.

Michelle’s desk was near mine so we could always converse and see each other during work. We started leaving at the same time. I would walk her home. We would stop at the Whole Foods out in Fairmount and get some food. I would order salmon and broccoli rabe. I wanted to eat healthier so that I would lose weight. (I was heavier back then) I also wanted to show her I was trying to eat healthier. I don’t know why, I would get the food and heat it up in a microwave they had there. The salmon was okay, but I fucking hated eating that broccoli rabe. It was just chewy grossness. But I was happy just to spend time with Michelle.

Sometimes on a Friday, we’d stop and have drinks somewhere. Maybe at Tir na Nog. We would sit outside along the sidewalk on 16th street. The thing was, that was the route for many of our co-workers. They would walk back to the old building to the parking garage. So they’d walk by, and say hello, but I think they started to suspect that maybe there was something between us. I didn’t give a shit. We were just in the moment, drinking and having great conversations.

Sometimes we’d have lunch with the team, and other times just the two of us. There were times we’d have opportunities to go to things, and we’d stop somewhere for a drink and just end up blowing off the event entirely. Like networking events or even Philllies games. We didn’t care. We just liked being together and feeling the city.

I had even told her about a screenplay I was working on and sent her the first few scenes to read. I had based the female lead on her. Maybe she was to be my new muse. I just figured she’d never read it, but I emailed it to her anyway. I wanted to impress her that I was a sensitive artist. I wanted to let her know I was different than all of the ilk that just wanted to sleep with her. I really liked her as a person.

I started walking her home more and more after work. We’d stop at some cool spots, have a few drinks and then head back to Fairmount. Like I said, we’d stop and get something to eat and then I’d head back to the parking garage and go back to Jersey. I was spending a lot of time with her at work and out at night as well. However, I was growing a little annoyed when her phone would ring and it would be Delaware Dave. She broke up with him some time ago, and they were trying to give it another go. I noticed she would have to go to Delaware to visit him on the weekends. I didn’t like his control over her.

Why did he never come to the city? It seemed like she was making all of the sacrifices. I was having strong feelings for her and I was present. He would just call out of the blue at night when we were out and she always had to take the call. It was so annoying. Life would just stop, and she’d be arguing with him on the phone about who knows what. This happened on several occasions. Actually it happened a lot.

Once at the Ritz Carlton it happened and we had problems. I remember being angry with her due to her indecision. Another time we were out at McCrossin’s, a bar near her apartment. I would just have to sit and wait for her to get done dealing with him. I was here. He was there. I was with her. He was sitting home bitching on the phone. Who is more important? I remember when she got off the phone she said “I just feel like throwing this phone across the street.”  Funny, how this would all play out in some form in the future. Like some black prophecy.

I even wrote her a little verse. I don’t know if she ever kept it, but I gave it to her one night sitting on the stoop outside her building. I was so in love with her.

But for the most part, our times together were lovely.  One night I was walking her home, and we’d had a few drinks. We were listening to her music from her ipod. We had come upon a fountain.  The Swann Memorial Fountain (also known as the Fountain of the Three Rivers) is a fountain sculpture located in the center of Logan Circle. It represents the three major streams in the area. The Delaware, Schuykill and Wissahickon creek. The fountain, by Alexander Stirling Calder designed with Architect Wilson Eyre memorializes Dr. Wilson Cary Swann, founder of the  Philadelphia Fountain Society. The Society had been planning a memorial fountain in honor of its late president and founder. After agreeing that the fountain would become city property, the society was granted the site in the center of Logan Circle.

It’s a beautiful fountain. Sometimes during the summer months, you’ll find many children playing in it to cool off. Michelle and I stopped to relax and chat. She stuck her feet into the water, and before I knew it she was listening to her music and dancing gently in the fountain. She was walking all around in it, avoiding the spouts all around her. It was enchanting to see this woman I loved dance in the illuminated fountain at night. Like I was witnessing a beautiful blonde mermaid that had just gotten her legs and was celebrating her new life on Earth.

So despite my growing frustration with her indecision in regard to her romantic life, I was still having a wonderful time with Michelle when things were good.

Michelle always said: “I have so much fun with you that when the day is over, I wish we could do it all over again.”

 

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Valerie – Love Me Tinder – Update

I’m in love!  We’re getting married!

Shit… No we’re not.

I just re-edited this chapter the night before this posted to the blog. I wrote some things before that sort of put middle aged women down. That was insensitive of me. There’s nothing wrong with middle aged women. I like all women. I think I was just a little sore from paying for everything and never really feeling much for Valerie. That’s not her fault. It would have been nice if she at least offered once. But that’s not why I’m probably not going to see her again. I just didn’t feel anything special when I was with her. No chemistry.

The last time I went out with Valerie was back on October 1st. We went to breakfast, and then walked the Midtown Fall Festival for a bit. She had to go to one of her son’s football games.

I was fine with all of that, because I had already set it up the night before to meet up with June (Midtown Fall Festival Too!) at 3pm. This way I could go to the street festival and drink my face off and have fun. Which I did. June was fun to hang with.

Valerie and I had initially chatted on Tinder. She “Super Liked” me. She seemed nice, and not crazy. She was also age appropriate. That is something I had been trying to do for a while. Try for the first time in my life to date women my age. My last girlfriend was 27. The one before that was 27. The one before that was 32. The one before that was 22. The one before that was 28.

You can see there is a pattern here. I don’t try to date younger women. It just happens that way. I don’t think I’ve ever dated a woman in her 40’s let alone her 50’s. So I figured dating younger women hasn’t worked for several reasons. They don’t know what they want, who they are, or where they’re going. They may want to get married and have kids. I’m not doing that. Been there. Done that. No thank you. If we have a big age difference, we are in two completely different places, mentally, socially, and life experience. We probably don’t have anything in common. We probably don’t share the same interests or friends. She won’t know any culture references I make. Do see the pattern here? The only thing we may have in common is our mutual attraction. Maybe she has daddy issues, as many of them do. Not my fault, but I’ll do what I can. We’re just in two totally different places in our lives. But… even better than pulling up in an exotic sports car, nothing looks cooler for an older gentleman than showing up at an event with a lovely young woman on his arm.

But that hasn’t worked for me in the past either. They don’t stick around.

I’m just not feeling the rush of love for Val. We’ve been on four dates. First one was drinks. Second one was a movie. Third was light dinner and drinks at El Rey, and four was breakfast and street festival. You know what? This lady is a bore. She talks too much about a bunch of shit I don’t care about. I don’t want to hear about her alcoholic ex-husband who is probably going to die soon. I don’t want to hear the whole detailed story about how she got her current job. I tried to date this woman. I didn’t feel anything. I kept using words like, nice, smart, stable, CFO, and good parent to describe her. Fuck that shit. I want a woman who lights me up when I’m around her. And damn it, I’m going to find one.  It’s not like I’m on a quest. But I’m just going to continue being me, and living my life, and seeing what’s out there. But I’m not going to settle for grinding mediocrity, just because a woman is the same age as me.

The last time I heard from Valerie was the afternoon of October 1st after our breakfast/festival date. Even after it we said we would try to do better with the communication thing! I’m not interested enough in her after four dates to even give a shit. And the great thing is, apparently neither is she. I haven’t heard from her, since her last text, which said she had a lovely afternoon with me. Who knows? Maybe she met someone who is her age and is into her. Because clearly I’ve tried, and I am just not. So we’re even. She got some free meals and drinks and a movie out of it.

So I tried. But I’m done with Valerie.

But some time has passed and I ran an idea by my neighbor Trish. Valerie loves films. So do I. What if I have the occasional free Saturday and just go see some great film with her and then talk about it after over a drink?  That would be cool right? We could just be film buddies. Trish said she probably doesn’t want that and it’s not a match and I should just forget about it and move on. Trish is crazy but in this instance, she’s probably right. So rather than circle back, I will move forward on my quest for true love.

But I will close with this. If I found the right lady that understood me and I felt real passion for, I wouldn’t care what her age was. I just would like a solid connection, even if she’s older than I am. Maybe I would be her sugar baby. It could happen, right?

Be careful what you wish for…

Stay tuned!

 

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 Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Lida – Innocent Exile

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

This is going to sound like it’s not true but it is. A couple of months ago during the Democratic Convention, I met Lida. I was coming out of the Rite Aid at 17th and Chestnut. This petite woman who appeared Indian or Middle Eastern in origin came up to me on the street.  Late twenties or early thirties, caramel skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes. She asked if she had seen me yesterday out here with my wife and our dog.

I don’t have a dog, and I certainly ain’t got no wife! So I was a little taken aback. Philly is full of nuts. But she was very sweet. I told her maybe she saw me with my neighbor and her dog because we were out together with her dog a few days ago. She then asked me where the T-Mobile store was. I told her. She said she was from Northeast Philly. That she was staying with a friend here in center city for the Democratic Convention. She had taken a 2 week temporary volunteer position to help out with the influx of people. She said she didn’t know her way around Philly and asked if I could show her where the T-Mobile store was. I had nothing to do and she was very sweet, so I said yes.

So we’re walking over to the store and I’m staring to realize there is something off about this woman. She is asking me a lot of questions about my life. Am I married? Do I have a girlfriend? Do I ever want to get married? Stuff like that. Like I said, she was very sweet but seemed to lack some social skills. She almost seemed a little immature in her thinking. So we get to T-Mobile and she talks to one of the staff. She needs a charger or something. She asks me to hold her bags and I go have a seat.

After some time, she has what she needs and we leave. She says she has to go to Rite Aid and pick up a few things. She begins to tell me that she normally lives with her parents up in the Northeast. That she was bitten by a deer tick like nine years ago, and got a bad case of Lyme Disease. Bad enough that she has been on disability for the last 9 years. She has never been married. The more I listen to her the more it seems that she has somehow been locked away.

Lida takes my hand. She wants to hold hands. I love holding hands. I haven’t held hands with anyone since 2014. I did it but it felt awkward. I just met this woman.  She tells me how she found this temporary roommate through Craigslist. I needed details. She said he was man in his sixties and was letting her stay at his apartment here in center city so she could do her job.

First thing I’m thinking is, how is this young woman who seems like she has been locked in a tower since the theatrical release of the Little Mermaid know any thing about going onto Craigslist to find stuff?

Then she wants to sit in a park. So I comply. I can feel that this woman is lonely. We’re facing each other on a bench, and out of nowhere she says; “Do you want to kiss me? Because it looks like you do.” It was surreal. Nobody does that. But… If I search back through my whole history and everybody I ever dated…yes, this has probably happened before. But we didn’t kiss. I think I was so taken aback by her statement. Odd thing was, I could feel that she wanted me to kiss her. I would have but it just seemed weird. She says she has to go to the store and pick up some things. I wanted to see how this whole thing was going to play out so I agreed to join her.

She seemed simple, but like I said she was so sweet. It’s as if she had little experience connecting with people. Especially the opposite sex.

We go to Rite aid and she hands me a list. A list?  She tells me she has to get these things for the house. It’s part of the agreement. I ask her if she is fooling around with this guy in exchange for free room and board. She said she was not having sex with him and he is often out-of-town. I enjoy a challenge so I grabbed a basket and the list.

I ran a round the store getting all this stuff while she looked at mascara. I returned to her and she was very pleased at all of the stuff I got. But I think she was more pleased that she  had a guy to do domestic stuff with. Frankly dear readers, I was bored at T-Mobile, and doing this was kind of annoying, and all the questions about life and love and hand holding were actually starting to get on my nerves.

So now we’re walking back to her apartment and I’m carrying a bunch of bags. She asks me what my plans are for the rest of the day. I’m thinking, she’s nuts and I don’t really want to be around this head case much longer. I tell her I have to be at a meeting at 2pm. Which was a bold-faced lie. I had to see a friend of mine at 3pm but I wanted to get away from her sooner. If she hadn’t been insane I would have worked something out with my friend. Because she was a nice looking little chick.

We get to the building that she’s staying in. There is a security guard at the front desk. She tells him that she just has to drop all of these bags upstairs at the apartment. He says fine, but I have to wait here in the lobby. I don’t care, maybe I should just bolt while she’s upstairs and cut this nut job loose. But she seems lonely and she is really sweet. And based on past experience when I was in a band, sweet crazy can be a lot of fun. She gets on her T-Mobile phone and calls the old guy who owns the apartment. She explains to him that she got all of the stuff he wanted her to get on the list at the store, but she needs me to help her carry all the bags upstairs. She explains to him that I am her friend and not just someone she just met. She’s really selling it. I’m acting casual and looking at my phone as if uninterested. Because I kind of am! At this point I’m assuming that the guy asked to speak to the security guard. She hands her cell to him and he’s listening, says a few words that I can’t hear and then hands her back to the phone. I’m assuming he instructed the guard to time how long we’re up there in his house. Lida thanks him and says goodbye. The guard waves me through and we head to the elevator.

We arrive on her floor, and this place is nice. There’s a full gym on this floor. We walk to the end of the hall and she opens the door to the apartment. It’s nicely appointed. I put down the bags and we start putting things where they belong. She excuses herself to the bathroom. I look around. The place has no view. It faces a wall of another building. The apartment doesn’t look lived in so I figure the old guy often travels.

Lida returns from the bathroom and comes at me like a pit adder. She throws herself into my arms and pushing her body against me, kisses me deeply. I return her attack. I do nothing to resist her advances. She stops for a moment. Her lips are only an inch from mine. “I’m so horny all of time.” she hisses, producing a small square packet from her hand. She looks me dead in the eye. “Put this on. You have to be quick.” She leads me to her room and we quickly disrobe each other in a tangle of limbs and garments. I push her down onto the bed and suit up with the prophylactic.

Normally, I like this sort of thing to last for a long time. But time is of the essence. My window of time for this to work is closing, and her thighs are opening. The fear of getting caught or being found out only heightens our arousal. (insert jack hammer sound effects here)

I don’t know if it was seven minutes or five. Probably five. Felt like three.

Panting and sweating, we quickly dress. I tie off the end of the condom and take the evidence with me. (Always a good idea fellas when you hook up with some strange in another man’s house.) We jump into the elevator and get out of the building. My mind is reeling. I play it cool as I stride by the security guard and out the door. It’s a little bit before 1pm, so what just happened is technically a nooner.

Lida is giggling and holding my hand and says she wants to go and sit by the water feature over at City Hall. I’m still a bit stunned from the event so I just go with her. She asked me if I liked it and did I get what I wanted and was I satisfied and do I think she’s pretty. etc. And I’m saying yes, yes, yes Yes! We sit down in front of a bunch of little kids playing in the fountains. It’s funny. The kids are laughing and playing and having a grand time in the water. It’s funny that as long as I’m sitting here with a woman everything is cool, but remove her from the situation and…awkward!

So of course she starts going on about kids and marriage and all of the other stuff. How she wants to get married and wants kids. I feel emotional. I’ve already done all of that and don’t want to do it again.I start feeling sorry for her. Because after the Democratic Convention leaves, she’s going back to her parents house in Northeast Philly. She tells me that tonight City Hall shows movies for free outside. She asks me if I would like to see whatever is playing tonight. I’m like…sure.  Then she asks me to bring a blanket and make a picnic basket and all. How we’re going to go on dates and go to dinner while she’s here. I’m like, “Tell you what, I have to go to my meeting soon. Let me take down your number and I’ll text or call you when I’m done. I don’t know how long it will be.” She gives me her number. I ask her what she’s going to do with the rest of her afternoon and this was her response: “I’m just going to go back to the apartment and play with myself.” Really? I ask. “Yea, I told you I’m always horny. I’m just going to masturbate and think about having sex with you all afternoon.” I kind of liked that she used the words “Play with myself.” It’s such a juvenile term that sounds like something a parent would tell their child not to do, or to stop doing and somehow it made it dirtier. I liked that. I liked the idea of her just sitting back in that apartment and just going to town on herself for hours. Just ruining the upholstery throughout the house. That almost makes me want to see her again.

Almost.

I walked her back to her building. We hugged and kissed and I told her I had to go. I walked down Chancellor at 15th which is basically a filthy alley. Tears began to run down my face.

I never spoke to or saw Lida ever again.

 

 

 

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 Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Johnny R. – One Vice at a Time

Your eyes are not deceiving you. That is a dude. Phicklephilly is still for the most part, straight, and still fickle. Originally I was going to just write about the women I have met, dated, romanced, and loved in this city for the last 10 years. But now that I have been writing this for a while, I thought I’d like to make this into a book and possibly a TV series. So I’d like to start to introduce some male characters that I have met here in Philadelphia. I consider them friends, so they should be included in this story. This way when I make reference to them, you’ll know who they are.

I met Johnny, at my first advertising gig when I got back from New York. Same company where I met Michelle. He worked in the finance department. He’s originally from New York himself. Pretty big family. Irish Catholic. Both parents have passed on.

I met Johnny at a bar one night near where we worked. I was having drinks with some of the back office people in my department and the one girl was friends with Johnny. She introduced me and I liked the guy. He had a sharp wit, and sort of an attitude. I knew he was a smart guy.  So every time I was over at that bar he would be there with some of the gang. We sort of became friends from just running into each other at this particular watering hole.

I always said we should meet up for lunch and a beer one day on the weekend or something. I like Johnny. Like I said, he was a funny guy. Plus, we enjoyed and appreciated many of the same music acts, movies and TV shows.  So he decided one Saturday to come to the city to get his hair cut and said we could meet up after. He lives with his girlfriend of nearly 8 years. They share a house up in Mayfair which is part of Northeast Philly. Her family owns a house in Sea Isle City, NJ. She works in jewelry sales.

So he comes down on the train to center city.  I think we got some food together. But for the life of me I can’t remember where. Maybe one of the old mexican restaurants that’s been knocked down and converted into a Target. After lunch, he says he wants to stop and see a friend of his. So we walk through Rittenhouse and head over towards 15th street. He doesn’t mention exactly where his friend is. So we’re walking down 15th street and we’re crossing the street near Chancellor street. I assume his friend works at the Applebee’s on the corner. But he keeps walking down Chancellor. Then I see where his “friend” works. The place is down the end of the block, (Or filthy trash strewn and dumpster alley as I see it) It’s called the World Famous Gold Club. I have never heard of the place. At that point I didn’t know it existed.

Here’s my take of strip clubs or gentleman’s clubs. In all of my experience the majority of men that go to these places are usually all married, and unhappy in their relationships. Every guy I know that goes to these places, is unhappy and dissatisfied with his life. Granted, there are some older gentleman that are just sad and lonely and just want a little attention from some women and will pay to get it. I’m single. I am not currently in a relationship. I could go every night and get lap dances and probably even commit even more foul deeds with some of the harlots at the WFGC. But I have absolutely no interest.

I have nothing against these establishments or the folks that go there, but it’s just not really my scene. Every time I’ve gone to one of these places in the last 10 years, it’s been with some guy that is in some unhappy marriage or relationship. So these places serve a purpose. I’d rather hang out with real women that aren’t being paid to take off their clothes. But occasionally it is fascinating to go for the novelty. But for the most part it’s a big rip off. The girls will try to steal from you, the bartender will over charge you for drinks and you end up with a $200 bill. Even the ATM fee is $6 per transaction. The whole place is designed to separate poor saps from their cash. Many times by the time you’re drunk enough to want to go to a strip club, you are banged up to the point where the decisions you make are not the correct ones and you can be easily manipulated by dark forces.

But Johnny has introduced me to this little dive. It’s early on a Saturday so the place is quiet. Not many girls are working. He introduces me to his friend. She was a bartender there. Pretty face but all tatted up. Not my cup of tea. The whole lifestyle of those places just turns me off. But I had a good time there that day with Johnny and the girls. I don’t do lap dances or anything. I usually just hand the girl a dollar when she asks me to tip her for her onstage performance. I don’t even stuff it in their top or their bottom. That’s normally what’s offered. I just put the buck in her hand. But Johnny on the other hand, gets lap dances in the back. They are obviously more money. But he has been known to actually get sex from the girls in the back room. Most times he doesn’t pay for that extra perk either. I hear he’s well endowed, so maybe that’s the trick.

So Johnny will pop in occasionally in Phicklephilly. He comes down to center city  every other month. We go to dive bars, drink beer, smoke cigarettes, listen to the jukebox and discuss life. If he gets a good drunk on we may partake in some other activities. I’ll tell you this; Johnny has about 5 different vices. I wouldn’t say he has any addictions. He just loves vice. I enjoy a little vice, but as I get older, I need less. But regardless… I love the guy. I consider Johnny a dear friend.

So next time he’s in town I’ll tell you what sort of deviltry we get into.

 

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.

Michelle – Chapter 3 – Ignition

I never wonder how history can get to be blurred over time. Details are lost. Words forgotten. Deeds bent and twisted by time and sometimes other factors. The story of Michelle and I only lived in two places. In both of our heads. That’s it. Nowhere else in the world. There is her version. There is my version and somewhere in between there is the truth. But I will do my best to tell this compelling tale.

Michelle was still trying to get acclimated to the job and was coming along. We had been getting pretty close as pals. There was lots of laughs in our department and Michelle fit right in with our band of idiots. Like the rest of the company, everyone liked and respected her.

In our building we had our on lunchroom. Like the watering hole on the savannah, it would not be uncommon to see salespeople, writers, reporters, production people and even management all eating in the same place. Obviously they would all sit in their little cliques together like high school.

One day I asked Michelle if she’d like to join me for lunch up there. She agreed, which I was thrilled about. I could never have imagined in this moment how this day would ultimately end. We’d be moving to our new, modern workspace downtown, so this could be one of the last time anyone of us would be using this lunchroom.

Lunch was nice and people said hello as they passed. I was still relatively new to the company so many people didn’t know who the hell I was but everybody knew Michelle. I don’t remember what we even talked about and it doesn’t even matter. I was just happy to be out of our tiny office and sitting enjoying a simple meal together in public.

After lunch we went back to work as usual. The details are a little fuzzy because this was 8 years ago, but Michelle and several other staff members were all going across the street to a local go-to bar after work for a few drinks. I do remember it was a Thursday, because the next day was Friday and there were moving all of our stuff to the new space. We were to start at the new location the next Monday. I’ll never turn down the offer to have a drink, so when Michelle asked if I was going I said that I’d check it out. I had been there before but only with a co-worker for lunch.

I finished up my work and packed up the last of my stuff. It was probably around 5:30 when I walked over to the parking garage and dropped my computer bag into the trunk of my car. I walked across the street, and entered the establishment. Michelle was sitting at the bar chatting with this young, short jewish guy named Seth who worked in local digital sales. I knew him only in passing because we sold different products than his group. The local sales team were a young, hip, good-looking bunch that always appeared to have it better than the rest of us. I will say this, I liked him. He was hungry and a good sales guy. So he had my respect. I took a seat next to him and Michelle was on the other side of him.

I ordered a glass of wine and we all chatted. Talking about the move to downtown and just regular corporate stuff that happens at every happy hour around the world. At some point Michelle got up to chat with some ladies she was friends with by the jukebox. Seth and I continued to talk. Business, goals, women, bosses, etc. At one point I asked him how his love life was going. He said he had started dating a nice girl and it seemed to be going well. He asked me and I told him I had just moved back from New York and wasn’t seeing anyone. I asked him if he could have any woman who would it be. He looked me right in the eye and with a serious tone said; “Michelle.” I was like, “Really?” He said, “yea, I love her. She’s amazing.” I suppose I would get that answer from any short Jewish guy. A pretty tall blonde on his arm.

Time went by and everyone was throwing back their drinks. People drink a lot in the advertising and financial world. It’s just part of the business. We were all pretty buzzed and everyone was laughing and the place was getting loud. Seth said he had to leave soon, and it looked like Michelle and I were going to stick around a little longer. I thought I’d shake the place up and see if I could get everyone’s attention and maybe annoy them at the same time. It was my turn to feed the jukebox, so I had a plan. I played something popular that everyone liked and then I programmed in Dio’s Holy Diver being performed by Killswitch Engage. I love heavy metal and I’m sure nobody ever places that kind of music in a place like that. But then I programmed a bunch of other songs that were part of my plan.

Seth says his goodbye’s and now it’s just Michelle and I and we’re chatting away and slugging our cheap wine. Frank Sinatra comes on the jukebox. Michelle exclaims that she likes his music and asks if I played those songs. I told her it was indeed me. She smiled.

We continued to talk and tell stories, I told her I  lived in Pennsauken, NJ and how I would ultimately find a place in the city . I always felt like the type of person that should live in a metropolis. I had spent most of my life living in the suburbs wherever I was and hated it. But after getting a taste of city life while in NY I knew where I belonged. Michelle lived in a high-rise apartment building in Fairmount. It was only about six blocks away so she liked walking to work. She had a roommate, who she used to model with a few year ago and they had remained friends and decided to get a place.  She said the apartment had a great southern view of the city.

Then she asked me if I wanted to check out her view. We had been drinking for a couple of hours and were both “tipsy”. I’m being gentle here. It’s like when the police say: “Tipsy driving is still drunk driving.” That’s how tipsy we were.

We literally were outside and she was having a cigarette and we had our wine glasses in our hands, and the next thing I knew we were walking towards her house still caring our glasses of wine and drinking from them. She whips out her iPod, (I had only seen one before in my life. I still had a flip phone back then!) She puts one ear bud in my ear and the other in hers and she’s playing songs for me. It was the first of many surreal episodes I would encounter with Michelle. I asked her wouldn’t the bar be angry if people walked out with full glasses and took them? She said it happened all the time. At that point I didn’t give a shit, I was just happy to be with her. Lunch and then drinks in the same day was a big deal to me. I did notice that if you don’t have both ear buds in your ears the sound quality just isn’t there. But the music was chill and sort of dreamy.

I don’t remember entering her building, nor do I remember going up in the elevator, or entering her apartment. Apparently her roommate was away for the weekend. All I remember is kissing her and her saying my breath was bad. I don’t know why she said that or even why  I remember that, but it didn’t stop me from drunkenly making out with her. I remember some other things happening, but we did not have sex that night. I can’t remember anything else or where  I even slept that night or when the night ended.

I woke up I think on the floor the next morning and was pretty hung over. The beautiful thing was we didn’t have to go into work that day, which was clutch. I remember looking everywhere for my glasses. For the life of me I was looking all over for them and just couldn’t find them. It’s even harder to find your glasses when you’re not wearing your glasses! I did finally locate them. They were under a chair out on her balcony. It had rained during the night and they were all wet but thankfully, undamaged. No idea…

We awkwardly pulled ourselves together, and I’m sure she was probably feeling bad about what transpired, especially because she was working hard to get back together with Delaware Dave. I think we agreed that it was just a case of drunken slipsies (That’s what my Dad calls it) I apologized for the infraction but deep down didn’t regret having it happen.

We said our awkward goodbyes and I told her I would talk to her later. She said she had to go into the office and pick up a few things but that was all. So I did my first Philadelphia walk of shame back to the parking garage under cloudy skies. When I got home I realized I had forgotten to pack the AC adapter to my computer. It was still plugged in the wall under my cubical at the old office. I called Michelle and asked if she could get it for me. She was pretty hung over and she agreed to slip in and out, and get her stuff and grab my adapter for me. Well at least she doesn’t hate me, I thought.

I was so tired and banged up from the events of the night before, I just drove back to Jersey and took a nap at home. It was officially the weekend, and we would all be reporting to the new location Monday morning. I had a lot to think about, but only time would tell what the coming days would bring for us all.

 

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