Harper – 2014 to 2015 – Plane Crash – Part 1

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

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The Demented Doll.

What’s worse than a Train Wreck? That’s right. A Plane Crash! That’s what this chick is.

I was out with my friend Keila (The girl who knows everybody!) one day at Misconduct a couple of years ago. I think she was between boyfriends. Whenever you’re out with Keila she always runs into people that she knows. She runs a Women’s Networking Collective and meets tons of ladies. She holds these events about once a quarter. She’ll get forty to fifty women out for the event. But in that process she becomes acqauinted with all different kinds of women. I’ve found that in all of my years in business that the people that go to these networking events really need it because they don’t know many people, and are trying to grow their business. Some of the craziest women I have met in Philly have come through Keila. First there was Carol. Crazy. Then there was Bibi. Not good. Now this chick. Bad news.

So Keila says; “My friend Harper is going to join us.” I assume it’s someone she’s known for awhile. Nope. Just another one of those “fleas and ticks” types that keep attaching themselves to Keila.

So Harper shows up and she’s a nice looking girl. 28 years old. Tawny hair, a ring through her nose and some ink. I don’t really care for the last two, but she’s kind of hot. I was attracted to her immediately. Back then I couldn’t identify the crazy like I can now. She sits down and we’re all drinking. I’m digging her. She seems artsy and sweet. We leave Misconduct and go over to Crow and the Pitcher on 19th Street in Rittenhouse.

We have a few more drinks there. Crow and the Pitcher has a guy that just handles cheese. He even has this little cart he rolls out and let’s people pick what they want. Keila is flipping out over the cheese guy. She must love cheese. (Rats also like cheese, but more in a later post) Harper’s very flirty. But she’s sort of flirty with everyone, which I don’t care for. It usually means a girl is either easy or a user of people.

So after awhile we leave Crow and walk through Rittenhouse Square. I whip out one of those electronic pens. The vape thing the kids are all doing now instead of smoking real cigarettes. But this has hashish oil in it. So it gets you high. I don’t use it anymore. Just lost interest. Weed was never my thing, but I get why people enjoy it. I just went through a phase where I was smoking weed, because for the first time in my life I worked for a company that didn’t drug test.

So Keila said she was heading out to get her car. Harper asked if she could smoke some of the vape pen with me. Of course I shared. Harper told Keila that she wanted to stay behind with me and hang out some more. So after Keila left, Harper and I sat in the park and smoked some more and then she said we should stop and get one more drink some where else. I started to think that maybe this girl liked me. (That, or she’s an addict of some sort)

But that was not the case.

Harper attaches herself to a host like the sea lamprey she is and will get everything she can out of them. She doesn’t really have any friends because the only people that hang out with her are women who don’t know her well enough, and dudes that want to fuck her. That’s it.

So we get one more drink at Aldine. Aldine is on the second floor right next door to Drinkers Pub at 19th and Chestnut. We chat some more and I start to learn about what a nut she is.

She’s originally from Mississippi. Lived with her Mother and brother. Not too much data on dad. (Red flag) She currently works as an interior designer. She doesn’t have a degree in that or even a license to do that job. She just “read six books on the subject.” That would be like me watching all seven seasons of Mad Men and saying I know how to create and pitch advertising campaigns to international corporations.

She belived in all kind of astrology stuff, tarot cards, and those gem stones that you put around your house for energy and good luck. It’s all nonsense and superstition. This tells me she’s a dumb person and pretends to be more than she is but is so weird people find her off putting.

It’s so painful to be around her once you get to know her that you just want to cut her off and hope you never run into her again. Here’s what happened on different occassions when I was with her.

She doesn’t even use her real last name. Just a shortened version of it she came up with. Even has the fake name on her business cards.

She told me she once shaved her head and buried her hair in the sand on a beach in New York. That’s bat shit crazy.

Once climbed a tree out front of Friday Saturday Sunday (Restaurant in Rittenhouse) and asked me to take pictures of her for Instagram.

I’ll write more about this harpie in two weeks.

 

 

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Church – 2013 to Present -Seizure Salad

I’m sitting in my go to bar with Church. It’s our spot and it’s what we do. He’s sipping a Sailor Jerry and Coke, and I’m having my usual Chardonnay with a side of ice. He orders a salad and I go with the sliders. There is a couple a few seats down from me to my right. I know the guy, his name is Brian, but I don’t know the lady he’s with so I wave but don’t approach. He could be working.

On the left of Church, is a brunette in her thirties and an older gentleman. Looks like a lawyer. We don’t really pay any attention. We’re chatting and doing our thing.

Daphne rolls behind the bar and says hello. She tells me it’s a slow night. Not much happening. She goes back to her hostess stand and it’s just another night in paradise.

Suddenly, the woman who was sitting to Church’s left, goes off the bar stool and hits the floor. Normally, I’d call that Thursday night.  We see so many banged up people around the city losing their shit. But this woman was having a seizure. People within visual range are shocked and the bar goes quiet.

I point to the phone on the wall, because the bartender on duty didn’t see one of her patrons suddenly vanish from the bar. “Liz, call 911.”

She starts dialing. Church, with his cat-like reflexes, springs into action and goes from sitting next to me sipping a drink to all the way around the other side of her on the floor holding her head to keep her steady. I get down there and untangle her leg from the lower rail of his bar stool. I have the legs. Church is focuses on the poor woman’s head. She’s thrashing about, and Church is barking commands to those around him. He’s literally single-handedly coordinating the effort to help save this poor woman, and keeping her from injuring herself further.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but Church was formerly a Corpsmen in the United States Navy.

A Corpsman works in a wide variety of capacities and locations, including shore establishments such as naval hospitals and clinics, aboard ships, and as the primary medical caregivers for sailors while underway. Hospital corpsmen are frequently the only medical caregiver available in many fleet or Marine units on extended deployment. In addition, hospital corpsmen perform duties as assistants in the prevention and treatment of disease and injury and assist health care professionals in providing medical care to sailors and their families.

They may function as clinical or specialty technicians, medical administrative personnel and health care providers at medical treatment facilities. They also serve as battlefield corpsmen with the Marine Corps, rendering emergency medical treatment to include initial treatment in a combat environment. Qualified hospital corpsmen may be assigned the responsibility of independent duty aboard ships and submarines; Fleet Marine Service, SEAL and Seabee units, and at isolated duty stations where no medical officer is available.

Yea, pretty bad ass. That’s the guy you want next to you when somebody takes a header at your favorite bar.

She’s making what almost sounds like barking sounds, and staring wildly about. He’s got a good hold on her. He’s talking to her. But mostly he’s trying to keep her from bashing her face into the wooden wall of the bar. The bartender comes around, and some others have gathered. I grab a cloth napkin and ask if we need to put it in her mouth. I always heard that epileptics could bite or swallow their own tongues. Church says, no. He knows what he’s doing and has the situation well under control.

She seems to be calming down. I look over at the guy who was with her. He’s just standing there staring, and looking uncomfortable. The paramedics come and stabilize her. I feel so bad for her. It’s the holidays, and she’s out for a drinks and this horror befalls her. They get her onto the gurney and roll her out. The police are there and also ask some questions. Church is on point, he gives law enforcement the full report.

They also speak to the guy she came in with. He says he doesn’t know her very well. He met her over at DelFrisco’s steakhouse, and then brought her over here for a drink. That’s a big lawyer hang out. Not my scene. This guy didn’t do anything to help or comfort her when she had the seizure, and he didn’t go to the hospital with her. I don’t care if you just picked up the chick in a bar. Lady falls down, you go to the damn hospital with her. I’m thinking that weasel was married and didn’t want any problems. How would he explain to his wife that he was at the hospital with some other woman? I may be wrong, but I got the vibe something was definitely shady about that guy.

We go back to our seats at the bar and have another drink. Church is pissed because somebody was telling him to turn her head when she was foaming at the mouth and that’s not what you’re supposed to do. Me, I was just glad the lady was okay.

Daphne came over to chat and get a recap. I tell her what I know, and tease her.”You had to say it was a slow night and that nothing was happening, and look what you did, Daph…”

“I know, right? Me and my big mouth.”

Indeed…

 

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

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Keila – 2012 to 2017 – The Gaza Stripper – This Side Of The Coin

My Family – Lorelei – 11/17/1996 to Present – The Apple of My Eye

When I began writing this story, I thought I would only cover certain topics. Mainly, my life in Philadelphia over the last ten years. The focus of Phicklephilly is romance and dating. But while on this journey, I realized my life is rich with so many other great characters, I should add them to the Phicklephilly universe.

So let me introduce you to my lovely daughter Lorelei. She turned 20 years old two months ago. Lor has always been a sweet, and easy-going child. Now a young woman. I am very proud of her, and its great watching her grow up and flourish. She’ll be occasionally popping up in my stories.

Her mom and I divorced when she was three and a half years old. She lived with her mom, and came to me every other weekend. This went on for many years. I’m not going to go into all of the details of my divorced life because that’s not what this forum is all about.That blog would be called, Nightmare in New Jersey.

One thing I never agreed with, was her mother putting her on ADD medicine when she was a little girl. But happily when Lor  was thirteen she came told me that she wasn’t going to take that shit anymore, because it wouldn’t allow her to perform in a dramatic way on stage. How fucked up is that?

Let’s have big pharma brainwash a bunch of stupid parents, and turn their creative and rambunctious children into dull robots, and life long drug addled customers. Just so we can make even more money for the stockholders. Pure evil.

There once was a kid whose teachers described him as unreachable. A boy lost in his dreams. Yea… that dude was Albert Einstein. Let’s crush any future Einsteins or Leonardo Di Vinci’s with a bunch of drugs. Shame on you all. And damn you all for what you’ve done. I was very proud that my daughter had the foresight to see what that junk was doing to her body and mind. So she kicked that shit years ago.

Anyway, Lorelei had become tired of the grinding frustration of living with her mother in New Jersey. Her mother’s 2nd ex-husband after me, was usually the blame, but once they divorced and he went back to Arizona, she was out of excuses. My daughter was and A – B student who was a beloved member of her high school’s theatrical group. She was lead soprano in a musical in 2014, and co-star of the musical they performed her senior year in 2015. This was a good kid. You have to wonder why life with her mother was so hard. What do we ask of our children growing up? Do well in school, and behave yourself. Lorelei was doing that and more. But I was married to that harpy for 8 years, and I know what kind of fresh hell it can be for anyone to live with my Lorelei’s mother.

My daughter was having stomach disorders, and anxiety living with her mother. Being in that hell house with her mother had for years been an extremely difficult place to be. Sad thing was, I split after 8 years, her second husband amazingly lasted a full ten years before he left. But Lorelei couldn’t leave. She was a child. She was like a prisoner under the ragged claws of her mother. But once she reached the age of majority she wanted to escape. She turned 18, and by February of 2015, she asked if she could come live with me. “Daddy, I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to if it’ll get me away from her.” Of course she wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor, and I would never turn my child away. So I told her to come live with me in Philly.

There was an obvious shit storm that ensued. Her mother likes to control everything, but lacks any real control over her own life. But my daughter was 18 years old. She could do what she wanted. She could vote, buy a gun, and serve in the military if she wanted. So technically, there was nothing her mom could do about it. She fought it of course, but I think we even had my daughter’s high school on our side. They realized her mom is crazy and were fed up with her nonsense as well.

But all aside, I forgive her mother. It takes too much of ones time and energy to hold a grudge against someone. That is some bad energy that you have to maintain everyday. It’s just a waste of time. You only have to forgive once, and your mind is free.

Lorelei would get herself up at dawn everyday at my house in center city. She would walk in the winter weather to the PATCO station and take the train into Jersey everyday by herself. In the beginning she actually was having anxiety attacks at the end of each day, because she was expecting something bad to happen. She discussed this with me, and it seemed like a form of post traumatic stress disorder from living with her mother. I understand that. You never knew who, or what you were coming home to. I reassured Lor that nothing was going to happen. I was putting her on an allowance, and if she needed anything to let me know. I was always here for her, and she was now safe. All she would be coming home to would be her Dad sitting in his chair, sipping a glass of wine and watching Netflix. Nothing more. In a few weeks she settled in just fine. She’d get up and go to school in Jersey every morning 5 days a week. She did this until she graduated in June of 2015. She graduated with good grades on a Friday, and started working as a hostess in restaurant here in Philly the following Tuesday.

She has since gone from vegetarian to vegan. She eats a balanced diet, and is lean and fit. Her stomach disorders are gone, and she no longer takes any of the medicines her mother put her on. She works at her job and likes it. I let her live her life.

I love her very much, and would do anything for my baby. She’ll always be the apple of my eye. My one and only daughter. My immortality in this world.

I have always believed it’s not as hard as everyone thinks to be a parent. Just give your children love, good information, manners, consistency and discipline. I’m sure there is more to it than that, but that’s a decent foundation.

I always looked at parenting this way. I am the Archer. Lorelei is the Arrow.  I need to be firm when I hold the bow. But I also need to be flexible like the string. I must cast the Arrow straight and true into tomorrow, for that is a place I can never go.

Tomorrow belongs to our children. Try not to fuck it up.

 

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.

Carol 5/2014 to 8/2016 – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction – Part II

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

When we last left out hero, he was hanging out in his office, with Carol. Sh’e about to drop an atomic bomb on him.

So we’re at the office and she has to call her mom and go around and around with her about it for a while and I’m like, “what am I doing here? This is painful.” So I just plow the vodka into me and after a while I’m chill and can deal with her. So eventually she calmed down after talking to her mom. I know there was some talk about her and her mom making some other ring out of something and Carol getting some kind of tattoo. To me…all a waste of time but her, it’s not my family. So at one point out of the blue she says to me the following words:

“Do you think I’m fat?”

Guys… fair warning here. I’m about to tell you what to do in this situation if it ever happens to you. Because this one is a biggie. Great thing is if you are a dog owner or a pet owner of any kind, just remember, your pet will never ask you shit like this. I’m really good at navigating the treacherous waters of the emotions of the fairer sex.

Okay. This is important. Here’s what we know:

You realize there’s no way I can possibly answer this and not have her upset one way or the other. If you think you look fat but don’t look fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll think I’m lying. If you don’t think you look fat but don’t look fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll think I’m just flattering you. If you do think you look fat and you are fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll know I’m lying. If, regardless of circumstances I say you look fat, you’ll be hurt and insulted. It’s nearly an unwinnable game that no man should have the misfortune to ever have to play.

Here are some options:

“Do you think I’m fat?”

  1. Carol you are a beautiful woman and perfect just the way you are.
  2. No! (be adamant)  I think you’re gorgeous.
  3. Here’s a bracelet. (Then run away really fast)

Unfortunately… I did none of the above. Normally I’m deadly with words and deeds and diplomacy when it comes to girls but I don’t know if it was the booze, the exhaustion, or the ringing in my ears from her last tirade, or a lethal combination of all three, but I said the following:

“I suppose we all could be in a little better shape.”

Cut to: Atomic bomb exploding.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have spoken to several of my friends about this incident and everyone agrees that my answer was wrong. Dead wrong. Again, I don’t know why I said it, but it came out. If I could have somehow reached out with my hands and pulled the words back and shoved them into my stupid gaping maw, I would have. But it was too late. Well Carol got very angry and stormed out of my office and left the building in a huff. On my way home I received the following drunken text from her:

“Home… About to exercise and diet and make myself throw up to be thin. I can’t wait to have an eating disorder so I look attractive to you. By the way, I am amazed at your 6 pack and your figure, you are fit amazingly attractive God!!! You are so fit and built. Noooo extra belly fat on you! Night. Hope I lose weight so someone like you finds me attractive… But I can only hope since I’m so fat.”

That is some angry volatile shit right there.

Realizing there were several factors that came together to cause this cataclysmic explosion of rage, I decided to not respond and just let her cool off. Besides, she’s not my girlfriend. Sure I fucked up. I broke the code. It happens. But did I deserve such a wicked verbal attack? Maybe not so much. I just decided to let the cards fall where they would. A week later, I got a big apology text from her. I kind of would have liked it in person, followed by some passionate kissing but in the long run. Apology accepted. So it was business as usual with us. The occasional Saturday bar hop. She had recently secured a job out in Plymouth Meeting at a recruitment firm. Recruitment is a tough job. I know people who do it and it’s tough. They are really hard workers and understand how the employer vs employee dynamic works and locking down the talent. It isn’t much money at first but if you work your ass off and keep at it the rewards can be great, but it is a grind that takes time. Like anything with high reward.

So I knew I’d be seeing less of her and it would be a struggle based on her history to get up at the alarm every morning and drive to work and be on time everyday. Stuff I take for granted that’s easy for me is sometimes really difficult for others. But these are basic functions to stay in step with humanity. get up, go to work and do your job. Repeat. So I hope she makes it.

She had been going to my friend’s tanning salon every Sunday because I had secured a deal there for her. But the deal ran out and she stopped coming. She said she found a cheaper place on her way home from work out in Rockledge or something. No sunburned skin off my nose.  I knew I would hear less and less from her because she was busy with her work and hanging on there and probably sleeping on the weekends because believe you me getting her going before 2pm on the weekends is normally a miracle. Which brings me to the latest incident.

She reached out to me on August 23rd of last week in a text and said:

Carol: “I miss hanging out. Can we hang soon?”

Me: “I’m available Saturday.”

Carol: Ok. We should do a Carol and (My Name) Day. I called you (My Name) which I never do.”

Me: “I’m fine with that. I’ll mark my calendar.”

Carol: “But not too early.”

Me: “Of course. Mid afternoonish is cool.”

Carol: “Ok. Let’s do it. I’ll set a reminder for myself.”

Me: 🙂

Last Saturday arrived and I figured I’d get a text around 3pm and then she may make it out sometime after that. I know it sucks. It’s like the whole day is wasted instead of me and Carol. I went to visit a friend of mine at her work and chatted awhile about it. Earlier in the week some people had done the perfunctory, ” Any plans for this weekend?” and I’d say I’m going to hang with Carol. But Saturday the hands of time went round and round without a word from Carol. My friend who I had been chatting with that day said, “When that happens to me I just assume they are really hung over or dead.” That’s great, I said but I don’t like being stood up. And when I really look at my life I really don’t have time for a handful like Carol. You may start to see a trend as I go forward with this blog, but it will all make sense in the near future why this sort of nonsense happens with these women.

So I went home, fixed myself a vodka and tonic, lit a cig and continued watching the Netflix exclusive series, Stranger Things. (Great show! Check it out.)

I went to Carol’s name in my phone and blocked her.  I need to make sure I only surround myself with people who value me. I have also recently blocked her on Instagram and Facebook. So I’m done with her.

Fucking Crickets!

 

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

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Carol – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction – Part I

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

I was introduced to Carol by a friend of mine who works as an event director for a center city restaurant. I was literally sitting at the bar and my friend walks up with Carol, and says “Can you babysit this one for a while and I’ll meet you next door in a little bit.” Carol and I immediately hit it off and were chatting and laughing. We went to Square 1682 for a drink. Carol seemed fun. She has  a nice face, long brown hair she’s probably 5’4″ green eyes and is somewhat voluptuous. Very busty. She recently cut her hair to shoulder length and donated it to make wigs for cancer kids, so that’s a nice gesture.

I liked her well enough. She was bubbly and fun to be around. I did notice that her regular speech was peppered with profanity to the point where I would have to say something. I can trust a person that uses the whole language but too much cursing is just a lazy mind’s way of expressing itself. Something I also noticed that when she would drink she’d become very intense about whatever it was she was talking about. Sometimes it seemed overpowering and I can see how that would drive people away from her. But we had fun that night and I saw a green light so I went in for a kiss but she deflected it. I thought I saw a green light but apparently it was turning from yellow to red!

So after that night I didn’t see her for a while but I ran into her one evening. She was coming from her latest job and was on her way home. She worked at some start-up here in the city. We chatted and decided to have a drink. We get there and she is drinking, and getting excited and loud and as usual a little profane. It was actually painful for me to be sitting there. I was feeling stressed just listening to her. Then she saw someone she knew outside and went out to chat with them. We were in a bar I frequent so I was comfortable sitting there by myself. The bartender even looked at me like; “Dude, I feel your pain.” She got me a whiskey just to soothe my nerves.

Carol had mentioned she was supposed to meet her friend for birthday drinks down at some bar down in midtown village or as some call it the gayborhood. Her friend who was having the birthday is gay so it would stand to reason. I can’t remember the name of the place but it’ll come to me. Carol hadn’t come back from whoever she was talking to outside and I wanted to go see my friend who worked the door over at Ashton Cigar Bar, so I settled up at Square 1682 and text Carol that I had to leave. Frankly I was relieved to get away from her.

So I’m chatting with my friend at Ashton sipping a drink and smoking a cig so I’m calm and happy now. Carol texts me and asks me what I’m doing. I tell her I’m at Ashton. I know I shouldn’t have done that but I had already had a few drinks in me and was feeling fine on a Friday. So she comes to Ashton and gets carded by my friend. As a sidebar here my friend has a good job but was bouncing just as a part-time gig. Anyone you ever met who has worked at a bar knows it’s a tough job. You have to deal with a bunch of drunk and arrogant people some of the time. So when Carol gave him a hard time when he carded her and may have called him an asshole, my buddy wanted to toss her out. But I smoothed things out. But his tolerance for that kind of nonsense is very low.

Carol begged me to go to the birthday thing with her and I was like what the hell by then. So I agreed. I find that the more alcohol I consume the easier it is to deal with her volatility. So we walked over and her friend was there. Surprisingly enough it was a great place. The people were friendly and I was having a good time. I even ran into a guy I had met in my business network there with his friend whom until that moment I didn’t know was gay.  I believe in live and let live, but when you’re in a bar you would never go to and you’re like, “I know that dude.” “Wait… that dude’s gay?”

Anyway we had a good old-time there and later Carol jumped in a taxi and I walked home.

So Carol and I would meet up occasionally. Normally there was drinking involved. We both like vodka so that’s a match. I remember it was Thanksgiving Day of 2015 and we both sort of had nothing going on, so I went to her house and we made road sodas and just walked around the city and ate and drank. The city was quiet because of the holiday and the weather was nice so it was memorable. I remember later telling a friend of mine who had a big family and friends type Thanksgiving, that had been somewhat stressful as most holiday gatherings go. When I described my day with Carol, he said that he thought that was glorious. Road sodas, stop at Misconduct Tavern on Locust for food, Jose Pistola’s for drinks and then one more stop and then home.

And it was good. On another occasion I brought her up to my office and we would drink, listen to music and smoke cigarettes and just chat. So we would get pretty buzzed and I ended up kissing her lips. It was nice, and I was thinking maybe we could have something? I wasn’t that into her and she did make me crazy with her “tire spinning in the snow” like rants about her mother or her boss or her sister or her dog or whatever was working on her mind at that minute. But there was something about her I liked. Maybe we were just filling some void in each others lives at that time. She was then out of work, and needed someone who would listen and not be a slob to her and that was me.

My all time favorite moment with Carol, was one night we were hanging outside of Square 1682 smoking cigarettes. We ran into a guy we both knew. I worked with him, and Carol knew him from college. he called her some creepy nickname when he saw her. So she says, “Hey Alan, whatever happened to that crazy bitch you were dating that cheated on you with your roommate?” Alan goes “I married her.”

Crickets! (But glorious silent elegant crickets.)

One night we were at Aldine having drinks, and that is a nice place in Rittenhouse. Well the owner is behind the bar and of course I’m trying to possibly get a future meeting to discuss maybe advertising her bar/restaurant in the publication where I work. And Carol makes some reference of how she doesn’t want to leave her drink unattended while we go out and smoke because she doesn’t want to get roofied. Carol has a very real fear of that happening. And I get it. I really do. Anyone that would drug a woman and take advantage of them so they can easily rape them, should go to jail. And I don’t mean the local hoosgow. I mean you need to be sent to “pound you in the ass prison” and get passed around like a blow up doll for a long time. (reference: Office Space & American History X) But in this case Carol is saying something to a female business owner who owns a fine restaurant and she is right there behind the bar and we’re the only ones there! It’s a bit insensitive and inappropriate. So when we were downstairs I mentioned that it was a nice place and she shouldn’t say things like that to the owner. Just have her cover your drink with a cocktail napkin or hold it behind the bar. Carol was a bit drunk and adamant about the whole roofie thing. And again… I get it. You’ve read my views on that above. But I told her there are times when she says things and they are inappropriate and poorly timed. She needs to see and understand who her audience is before she opens her mouth. Like, am I going to come out and sing Carpenters songs at a Sturgis biker rally? Hell no. So she was stressing me out and I told her maybe we shouldn’t hang out anymore. Well we talked some more and apologies happened and we were fine.

One of my favorite things that we used to do during the winter and spring of this year was we would meet at an agreed movie theater. The Ritz theaters are my favorite. We would go see some film and I’d get some popcorn and a diet coke and she would break out the liter of wine from her bag. I can’t remember the brand of wine but it was a chardonnay that came in one of those non glass containers. She would break out the cups and would always pour us our drinks. We’d sit in the back of the theater and drink wine and eat popcorn. I even brought her 2 miniatures of vodka as a bonus for her. Great thing is, we have never been caught! It reminds me of a joke I used to do years ago in my stand up act. “I got thrown out of the movie theater the other day. Why? For bringing in my food from outside. We’ve all done that right? Well it had been a long time since I had a barbecue…”

Anyway, we have done the movie thing a few times and it has always been fun. One night she was feeling volatile about some family things and I met her at Happy Rooster for a drink after work. It was like 8:30 on a Friday and I just felt beat. Just exhausted and drained. But I knew after a few drinks I would be back in the groove again. So I’m sitting outside and I’m sweating and tired because it’s been very hot this summer in Philadelphia. I can’t get any service and all I want at that moment is an ice-cold beer and a cigarette. I finally get one and I crush it. Carol shows up late. I forgot to mention this. Carol is ALWAYS late. And you will learn that I am very punctual when it comes to things in life. My father drilled that into me. Maybe it’s the German in us. But to me, being on time is paramount in all situations. My father would say, “It’s not that we agreed on 11′ o clock, it’s that your didn’t honor that promise. So your word means nothing”. Sure he’s hard. But he’s right. He’s trying to make me a better person so I don’t fail people in the future not be home on time for bedtime. Life lessons. My ex-wife was always late for everything and it drove me nuts. But I won’t be writing about her in this blog because this blog is called “PhicklePhilly”, not “NoOneCanGetAlongWithYouPhilly.” Carol is always late for everything. I would have to tell her the movie started at 1:30 when it really began at 2:oopm. That sort of stuff which aggravates the hell out of me. So I’m sitting at Happy Rooster and she shows up and says she has a bottle of vodka in her purse we just need to go get some club soda and we can go drink that for free at my air-conditioned office. That seemed like a great idea. But here’s the thing. She is going on and on about how her grandfather recently passed and her sister and/or her cousin had somehow hooked some rings and stuff from the estate. Carol was super angry. Now I don’t drink coffee because I have natural energy. It’s a blessing. But many times I get my energy from the people around me. It works great for me. But there was so much bad energy coming off her it was killing me. I wished she would just disappear but she did have free vodka so I knew once I had my happy serum I wouldn’t give a crap what she was talking about. And don’t get me wrong dear reader, My Father passed away earlier this year. Carol was flipping about jewelry. Just stuff. I’m not a fan of stuff. I get the whole family heirloom shit. But none of that will bring back your loved ones. they’re never coming back. Just be happy for the fleeting time you had with them and be lucky that your had it at all.

So we’re at the office and she has to call her mom and go around and around with her about it for a while and I’m like, “what am I doing here? This is painful.” So I just plow the vodka into me and after a while I’m chill and can deal with her. So eventually she calmed down after talking to her mom. I know there was some talk about her and her mom making some other ring out of something and Carol getting some kind of tattoo. To me…all a waste of time but her, it’s not my family. So at one point out of the blue she says to me the following words:

“Do you think I’m fat?”

Find out Wednesday what our hero’s response is to that question. The result could be catastrophic.

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

 

Welcome to Phicklephilly

This blog is about my life here in Philadelphia, people I meet, and the experiences I’ve had with them. Mostly women. I’m a gentleman, but I’ve been told I’m very fickle. My goal is to bring you the best dating and relationship content I can.

I appreciate you reading, commenting on, and most of all following my blog. 

I publish every day at 8am and 12pm EST.

Please check out my Collections tab. There you’ll find a list of all of the great collections of stories that are so fun to read.

Here is a list to get you started!

*** Go to the SEARCH widget on the Homepage and simply enter the name of the series you’re interested in, and off you go!

Here’s the list:

Celebrity Sightings

Crazy Dating Stories

Dating and Relationship Advice

Miscellaneous Stories 

Sun Stories

Tales of Rock

Tinder Moments

Wildwood Daze

 

More to come!

 

I also have several series about all of the people I’ve met here in my 10 years in Philadelphia.

*** Go to the SEARCH widget on the Homepage and simply enter the name of the person and you can read their series!

Annabelle

Carol

Cherie

Clarice

Dina

Eliana

Johnny R.

June

Kylie

Maria

Marisa

Mary

Michelle

Rebecca

Sarika

Trish

Valerie

 

If you’d like, you can just cut and paste the names into the SEARCH widget on the home page and go from there.

If anyone out there knows an easier or a better way to do this please let me know!

Thank you for your continued support!

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly         Facebook: phicklephilly       Twitter: @phicklephilly