Nina – Off Her Meds

I met Nina on POF a few years ago. We talk on the phone and she is relatively normal albeit somewhat shallow. Before the 1st date she sends a nude pic, which I was like, ok she must be interested but she tells me she’s a virgin. The 1st date went well and again seemed relatively normal with some quirks that I found cute, but we don’t have sex or kiss except her hugging me and kissing me on the cheek No red flags.

So, 2nd date is a yes for me and her.

A few days before the 2nd date meeting she texts and says how bummed she is cause she went on another date a few days after our 1st and he rejected her (For me no big deal we only had 1 date & I was lining out a date with another woman). Then she proceeds to tell me about her past which is beyond messed up loaded with physical and sexual abuse and a forced marriage by her parents for money. Now being a victim of some child abuse I could relate so it didn’t scare me, but I should have taken it as a red flag considering you’re telling me this when we literally just met in person once.

But date 2, the plan was we play retro video games on my laptop at her place and then eat food somewhere. Day of, she has a court date and says she’ll text me when to come over. Turns out her court date is against the husband she was forced to marry, so not good. I can’t really do anything as I am waiting for her text so I can come over. Not till 4pm do I get her text and naturally she’s not pleasant. I should have canceled, but no I’m too stubborn as I waited for the text.

So, I show up and she is literally in the fetal position crying. So, very awkward. I am awkwardly trying to comfort her. The she starts the whole “I am going to be alone forever. I really want a boyfriend. I’m too damaged. I want to be worshiped,” etc. Now that right there is cause to run away. Then she tells me she has bipolar disorder and has been off her meds for 2 weeks. Instead of leaving I somehow cheer her up, but I cheer her up too well and she starts to get manic and I can tell.

We go to walk her dog together and she continues that “I want a boyfriend who worships me and buys me things” In addition she starts saying some odd things like “I want to be daddy’s little girl in my next relationship” and an anti-Semitic thing telling me that a woman walking by is a Jewish whore repeatedly, but assures my she is not “anti-Jewish”. I would have left, but unfortunately my bag with my laptop is at her place.

We get back and she wants to play retro games and I can’t think of a reason to split, but she’s starting to get sexual saying what a butt plug is and insist I look it up on my phone. (I know what it is)

Then she cooks something for us. During the meal she tells me that she roofied the soup very serious and of course I panic. Then she laughs maniacally saying that she’ll lock me up in her closet, tie me up and feed me scraps. Again super panic, but then laughs maniacally again and says she was joking and states; “I can’t do anything to you as you would be flaccid and of no use.” (I don’t care if it is a man or woman, you don’t make that joke when you cook for a date at your place). She also threatens to spill the soup on me if I don’t drink the broth. I pretty much decide nope, I’m done. I don’t care if I’m rude. I get my things together, say it is getting late and I have to go. Before I do I go to the bathroom as it’s about 1hr to get back home. She literally follows me and asks to see me pee. I force her out and lock the door with her still trying to get in. I get done and she has her nightgown on when I get out and does the split and insists I feel how soft the silk is and her breasts. I’m sorry but just too much crazy for me to do that and as I’m leaving she proceeds to shake and randomly dance saying “Is it good for you?”

I was so glad when I made it back home safely and was not in fact roofied. A few days later she calls me and tells me she invited someone over from online and had unprotected sex with him and how badly she regrets it and how she loves getting attention from men, she feels horrible etc. So, yeah if any attraction to her didn’t die on the 2nd date, this about made sure any attraction was dead. I pretty much said “I really have no attraction to you whatsoever and if you want, let’s be friends and nothing more”, and said bye.

I never heard from her again thankfully. On one hand I do feel bad but on the other hand I have to look out for myself and she should be managing it and use her friends to tell things not someone she met only twice. Needless to say I pretty much took a break from dating.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Harper – 2014 to 2015 – Part 2 – Plane Explodes. No Survivors

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

South Street

I once hung out with her on South Street. She bought little Indian finger bells to clear the aura or feng shui of a room she was working on. Then she bought a chair and had me carry it on my head across town back to her apartment. It really was the easiest way to transport it, but I looked like a wicker turtle walking around with that on my head. When I got to her place she gave me a glass of scotch. Then she asked me to turn a big rug in the living room. What am I, the hired hand?

She lived with two or three other people in this house in a crappy neighborhood. She said she used to have sex with her one roommate, but then he got a girlfriend and stopped banging her. So now she says she has to listen to them have sex in the next bedroom. She doesn’t like that. I think it’s funny that she thinks it’s ok to shit where you eat. We had a cig and then she took me up to her room.

For an “interior designer’ it was a bit messy. Her underwear on the floor and what not. She showed me that the room was broken into four “stations” and each one had different magic stones or crystals on the furniture in that space. It was supposed to give off different energies. Yea, just crazy shit. But I will tell you this… Crazy is only good in one room of the house and it’s not the kitchen. At least I got to take that kind of her crazy for a test drive that afternoon.

Seaport Museum

I was invited to an event at the Seaport Museum. I was with Harper on South Street. We were at a bar called Tattooed Mom’s. There was going to be tons of free food and booze at the event. It was if she wanted to get a few drinks into her before she went. Maybe she has social anxiety. But then she tells me she rode her bike to South Street. WTF? So I have to call an UBER, but one that is an SUV, because we have to pack her bike in the back of it. Then drive to her house. Then she has to get changed, so we can then get to the event. I was aggravated and pissed, but I still liked her.

So we finally get to The Seaport Museum. We’re late and you know how much I hate lateness. I get a drink and as I literally walk outside to smoke a cigarette, these dudes bum smokes from me. But before I can lie and say I left them inside, fucking Harper says, sure! Then looks at me for the cigs. I fucking hate that. I’m taking it on the chin for $10 a pack now. That shit isn’t cheap. These guys are around her age and she immediately starts chatting them up like I’m not even there. You treat her really well and she just goes and starts flirting with other guys. She’s awful.

I go inside to get away from these turds and to get another refill because I need it. I run into my pal Johnny R. and I’m happy to see him. He can see I’m stressed about getting down here and her behavior. We get some drinks and chat a bit. He’s with his girlfriend and another couple so he has to hang back with them. I run into another friend and he can see I’m stressed but the booze is helping like always. Knocking the edge right off.

I see another girl who is equally nuts that I know, and I just avoid her and get back to Harper. (See: Kylie – 2014 to 2015 – Broken Wing) She’s done chatting with the smoke bums and gives them her business cards. I know they’re just going to call her to try to bang her. But I can’t worry about that. I think I had such a good buzz on that night I almost bought her a painting she liked. I was not thinking clearly back then.

I once took her to Matyson (One of my favorite restaurants that sadly isn’t around anymore) and she acted like a drunk asshole. Spilling champagne, etc.

Horrible Night

One night we went to a nice wine bar called Tria near Washington Square. I knew the waiter so I got the hookup. She was somewhat well-behaved there but it seems the more she drinks, the crazier she becomes.

After that we went to Indeblue in mid-town. It’s a cool Indian bar. All I remember was her putting stupid cocktail napkins on her head and having me take her picture with the bartender, Awful. Then she wants to stop for one more drink at Fergie’s pub. We go in there and she makes everybody at the bar move down so we can sit down. She proceeds to make fun of the bartender, saying how she thinks he’s mentally dim-witted. She starts chatting with some older dude on the other side of her and then said she was leaving. She asked if I was going to leave as well, and I told her I was staying. She left and I was already chatting with a pretty black girl to my right.

Once she came over to do tarot cards with me and started rearranging the furniture in my house. Oh, and drank non-stop. Insane! Who does shit like that?

I heard from a good friend of mine that on one of her interior design gigs, she rolled a chair into a closet and onto a $5,000 wedding dress. That was after she just dropped her keys onto the client’s Steinway piano when she came in. She didn’t get the job.

I can’t talk about this idiot anymore. It’s making me angry just writing about this lunatic.

This could all be chalked up to a few things. Mental illness mixed with alcohol and drugs.

 

 

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

Instagram: @phicklephilly       Facebook: phicklephilly.