Clarice – 2016 – Chapter 4 – Champagne Lady on a Beer Budget – Part Two

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

Yesterday we left off here:

She shows me her profile on OKCupid, another dating site. She wants me to read her profile. It’s actually really good, it shows a smart, confident, independent woman. I like that. “That’s why men are intimidated by me.”

“I can imagine. But I dig a confident woman. Especially one as pretty as you.” The picture she has posted of herself is spectacular. She looks like a gorgeous woman in her forties. I notice the age posted on the profile says she’s fifty-six. I point to this and she laughs and says, “That’s my OkCupid age.” I laugh and get it. She looks great and ratcheted back her age five years. “I’m really impressed with that pic of you, Clarice.”

“Cause my tits look so good?”

“Umm… well, yes, but…”

“That’s pretty much all I got to offer. I got no ass! I got skinny bird legs!”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” I say, smiling slyly.

Here’s the great thing about dating older women. They are over all of their body issues. They don’t give a shit about all of the nonsense that clogs the heads of younger women. like her profile says: “I know what I can, and cannot do.”

We’re slowly munching through the tacos. She seems to like them. I order another Tecate. She starts looking at the wine list. (Here we fuckin’ go…) I can’t MAKE her drink tequila if she doesn’t like it. I tell her it’s okay to have a glass of wine. (I know! There goes ten bucks!)

She asks me about my artistic background. I tell her about my art and musical background. (I don’t want to epand on that here. That’s for future posts) She asks if I do anything artistic now. I tell her I do some writing.

“Has anyone seen it?” she says.

“No.”

“You should write a blog.”

“Really?”

“Sure! You know about all of these things around the city. What to drink, where to go, and what to do. It would be really interesting. You could even write a blog about dating. I’m sure it would be fun to read!”

“Do you really think so?”

“You should look into it.”

“I’ll see what I can find out about blogging.”

(Oh, the irony!)

Time goes by and she’s getting a buzz on. She starts getting a little affectionate. I ask her if this okay with her PDA rule in place. Apparently it is, because she kisses me again. She’s canoodling around my ear and neck. “Oooh you smell good!” (She’s into me. It’s so on.) “What is that you’re wearing? It smells sooo good!” I tell her I forget what fragrance I grabbed out of the vanity this morning. Maybe Aqua di Gio, by Giorgio Armani I tell her. (Bold faced lie. It’s Axe body spray, Phoenix)

She kisses me again. “Don’t you ever use tongue?” she hisses. “I do…” I look into her eyes, and then at her mouth and then look downward, then back to her eyes, just so we’re clear. I tell her when I kissed her at the Ritz on Saturday she seemed a little tight-lipped. She says she was right there ready for anything. Got a live one here. Maybe it was the tequila talking. Clarice has no idea who she’s dealing with here. Like a baby seal hopping into the water to cool off, just as the grey dorsal fin cuts through the water heading right for her. She kisses me again. Now her lips feel softer and more passionate than Saturday. I can tell the difference. She’s been thinking about me.

She orders another margarita. (Thank you!)  I’m feeling good and into my third Tecate. It’s nearly seven. Need to wrap this up soon. I promised Church I’d meet him at Sofitel. She starts talking about the Comcast Holiday show they do on the digital wall in the lobby of the Comcast tower. She asks me if I’ve ever seen it. I told her I saw it a couple of years ago. (Probably with Michelle and her mom.) She says we should go see it. I tell her I think it’s over by now. She looks it up in her phone. It was over the day after New Years Day.

“Aww too bad, I thought we could go see it after this. See? I’m trying to think of free things we can do together!” (points for that)

I apologize that we missed it, and also tell her I have to go meet with Church after this. He has some important stuff to cover with me.

“Oh…You’re always fitting me in! On our first date at Panorama you had to leave.”

“I had our annual holiday toy drive at Time for the kids at CHOP!”

“On New Years Eve you had to leave me again!”

“I promised my friend Carly weeks ago that I would help her set up a New Years wedding party!”

“Now you’re fitting me in around your friend!”

“He’s having some domestic issues, and my friend needs my support. We set this meeting up a before I made this date with you.”

“Oh…okay. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I really like you Clarise. I want to see you, but I’ve had a lot of things going on over the holidays. I know now that they’re over, it should free up some time for us to be together.”

“My birthday is coming up, you know. I’ll be sixty-two on January 15th. Martin Luther King’s actual birthday, not the day we celebrate it. Do you have to work that day? It’s a Sunday.”

“Normally I do.”

“Well, here’s what I think you should do; switch with someone. Get on the train. Come out to Upper Darby around 1pm and I’ll pick you up and bring you to my house. You can stay until whenever you have to leave.”

“That would be great. I’ll see what I can do.”

Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Clarice is making it clear she wants me to come over and make love to her. Which I am prepared to do. I like Clarice, and I want her.

The check comes. She had two margaritas, one glass of wine, and three tacos. So technically, not including tip, she will have only cost me twenty-three dollars tonight. Please don’t think I’m cheap, dear reader. If you have been reading this blog, you’ll know that I have spent thousands of dollars wining and dining all of these women.

We walk outside and she takes my arm. I walk her to her subway stop. I walk her down to the first landing and kiss her. She’s surprised and pleased. I offer her what I did not before in a kiss. She smiles and kisses me back.

I hear the roar of the approaching train. Time to go.

 

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Church – 2012 to Present – Birthday Boy

Walk beside me and we’ll get you through the fire…

It was Church’s forty-eighth. He stopped up at the salon with a 200 ml of Jim Beam. I guess he wanted to get a little tuned up before we went to Keila’s going away party. Alice was nice enough to throw it for her considering Keila was leaving her high and dry. I don’t know when the party started, but I told Alice we’d be getting there after 8pm.

Church flopped on the couch in the waiting area of the salon. He cracked the half pint and poured half of it in an empty water bottle for me. He grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and mixed his own whiskey and coke. I got him a scarf for his birthday, and he loves it. It looks just like one of mine, and I know he likes mine so now he has one.

I finished up work around 8pm. I texted Brooke to let her know we were heading over to Alice and Keila’s office for the party. Church and I go to their building and wait for the elevator. We finally get one and it’s full of people. These elevators always take forever. We finally reach their floor and step into the hallway. We can see the shared space through the glass doors. I see Alice putting her coat on and others gathering to leave.

We’ve missed it. It’s over. I text Brooke and tell her they’ve ended the party early. She says she has to attend a birthday party at Vesper later so if I want to meet her there we can. I agree.  (It’s a cool speakeasy bar on Syndham street, around the corner from Misconduct on 15th and Locust)

Alice and Keila are heading down Locust street toward Locust Rendezvous. (Small neighborhood bar, with $5 burgers everyday) It’s packed, and they keep on going towards Misconduct. Keila suggests McGillin’s on the other side of Broad street. (Oldest operating bar in Philadelphia) Alice vetoes the idea and wants to go to Misconduct.

We all pile in there. It’s noisy and packed as well. I tell Alice that Church that I thought the party was going to go until 9pm. Now we’re doing this mess, and we don’t want to do this train wreck. Alice is half in the bag. I tell her that Church and I are meeting Brooke over at Vesper around the corner.

“Are you mad at me?” she pleads.

“No. it’s just too crowded here and we need to go chill somewhere.”

I can tell she’s upset, but all they would have needed to do is follow us. But they didn’t, and I’m glad they didn’t. I don’t want to hang out with a bunch of IT nerds. It’s Church’s birthday, and I need to make sure he’s happy. We leave Misconduct. (It’s like a goddamn Chinese fire drill!)

Life is good over at Vesper. There are people at the bar, but against the wall are high top tables that are all empty. We park it there and order some drinks. Brooke shows up and I’m happy to see her. In her boots she is towering over me at 6’4″. We’re chatting about everything. her life, job, the salon, my new business development job. She says she’s here for some girl’s birthday party. The girl slept with some guy she was seeing some time ago, but they have reconciled. Still sounds shitty to me. I ask her how her trip to NYC went. I’m assuming it was a modeling gig.

Her heart was shattered a few years ago, when some guy she was in love with, neglected to tell her a small detail in that he had a wife. Brooke said she now has no expectations. Sounds like the walking wounded. You can’t let the shitty things that people do to you change your way of thinking or loving. They’re just shitty people. Learn from them and move on. Just try to make better decisions next time.

Brooke tells me that she’s on a dating site where people have to verify their incomes. She says she went to NYC to meet a guy that is a millionaire. She showed me some pics and he was good-looking and fit. She said she’ll only date guys that have been verified and have solid income. Now technically this seems like a safe plan on paper. But here’s what I gathered from our conversation.

Hot millionaire, (Or not. I don’t know how they verify income. Do you have to submit your tax returns to this site?) He’s on there and probably has no game. Because if you’ve got a million dollars you should be able to pull some serious tail on a regular basis. He connects with statuesque Brooke. She gets on the cheap bus in Chinatown and takes it to NYC for twelve bucks. If he’s so rich and he likes you, shouldn’t he just send a car for you or at least pay for your round trip ticket on Amtrak to have you up and back in a classy way? That’s what you would think, right?

Brooke schleps up there on a shitty two-hour bus ride. Goes to the guys place and he’s got her. “Did you sleep with him?” I ask.

“Of course.”

That is sooo Brooke. She’s always come off as a very sexual being. But she goes about it the wrong way every time. She has a slammin’ athletic body and probably fucks like a tiger, but no one keeps her around. I think it’s because she gives up the gold too soon, and really just isn’t pretty enough in the face for anybody to stay with her. I know this sounds harsh, but she needs to protect her vessel and make better decisions.

So basically, this hot “millionaire” sat back sipping a scotch in his Manhattan apartment while Brooke hopped on a bus in Chinatown and rode all the way up there to see him. He bangs a hot hard body for the night. It doesn’t cost him a red cent. Better than a free hooker, because she really likes him and hopes he’ll do the same. But I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit about her and just got some hot booty call for the night. She never mentioned him courting her, or taking her out anywhere in Manhattan. He just fucked my friend and put her off the property the next morning like a bag of trash. She gets to take the long ride alone back to Philly on a bus that smells like urine.

Bravo.

Well done.

I told this story to my dear friend Dina, (See: Dina – 4/2011 to Present – Lil’ Jap) at breakfast the other day and I’ll tell you what she said.

“That is not how you find a husband.”

I love Dina. She has always been wise beyond her years. (Like and old Jewish lady that I love)

So I tell Brooke we’ll catch up more in 2017. She has to go be with the shitty birthday girl. I get the bill and it’s my two beers and Church’s one cocktail. It’s his birthday, So I get it.

It’s getting noisy as more people enter the bar. I look at my phone. Alice texted me asking where we were. I tell her the Vesper Club and there is plenty of room.

Drunken crickets.

Church finds out his buddy Eddie is working the bar downstairs and wants to go down there. It’s the coolest part of this place. We walk up to the hostess stand. To her right is a tall bookcase. Church picks up the phone on the wall and speaks to the bartender downstairs. The bookcase clicks, and swings open like a door!

It’s a secret passage way to the cellar!

I love this!

We go downstairs and there is this dark bar set up down there. Dark lounge. People are in clusters on plush sofas drinking cocktails. It’s quiet and could become one of my hang outs, if I can get down here again. The bartender Eddie makes us a few drinks and they are outstanding.

There is a couple to my left on a Tinder date! I tell them some other good spots to hit around the city. She’s hotter than he is but it could work if he’s nice and has game. To my right is what appears to be three ladies that must work together. They’re all getting drunk and laughing.

I’m happy to be down here.

After two drinks and the ladies getting noisier, I know Church will want to go. Church doesn’t  like noise or nonsense. He insists on paying the check. I press but he wants to get it. I’m sure his buddy gave him a good hook up on the drinks.

I’m happy.

We make one final stop at Sofitel. He’s got connections there too. I order a Stella Artois and he gets a cup of coffee. They bring us a basket of fries and some dipping sauce.

It’s outstanding.

So we’re wrapping it up, and the night is winding down. We go to his car and he gives me a ride home. Church got a scarf. We drank a little bourbon. We almost went to a party. I got to buy him a few rounds of drinks. I got good intel on Brooke. We got the hook up in a cool underground bar. And some free food at another.

So overall I think Church had a good time, and so did I.

 

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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…

 

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Sarika – 2014 to Present – Song of the Black Widow

God, she’s beautiful. I couldn’t find a stock picture on the internet to capture the delightful beauty of this girl. She is so pretty. Indian. Exotic. The type of beauty you’d almost pay for to be seen with at an event. She is probably one of the most beautiful women I know in Philly. But she recently reached out to me to come hang at a happy hour and a brand new place in Rittenhouse, called Scarpetta. Smith and Wolensky’s is gone and now that place is here. It’s in the Rittenhouse Hotel. She also mentioned that she wants me to come up to her apartment and check out her new place at the Dorchester. I am so glad I have reconnected with her. This vacuous she-devil is such a good character for this work. I am a huge fan of lovely Sarika.

I got to Scarpetta around 5:30. They’ve done a nice job with the place. It’s dark and intimate. The bar looks the same but they’ve opened up the place a bit. There’s only the one bar, but they have a lounge in the back and there is a dining room upstairs. I look around for Sarika but I don’t see her. I’m chatting with the manager and then I look out the window and see her walking towards the building.

Sarika looks amazing as always. We grab a couple of drinks at the bar and sit in this cool little area by ourselves near the window. Rittenhouse Square looks beautiful. It’s all decorated for the holidays.There are strings of bulbs in the trees and the whole park twinkle with light. She is having some sort of light pink beverage that I didn’t catch the name of, and I’m having the old-fashioned. Normally, cocktails are around fifteen dollars, but during happy hour they’re half price. So that’s something I can live with for now.

I ask her what she’s been up to and she says she’s been going on a lot of dates. Turns out that weasel she wanted to bring to my eighty dollar a plate New Years party last year has been gone for a while. I remember she was so into that guy. Apparently they were together off and on for two years. She says she wasted her best years on him and now she’s old. She’s 28! Come on Sarika, you are still but a child. She said he was a jerk to her and probably never loved her. I get her laughing, and start thinking that the black widow isn’t so bad after all. She may be smart as a whip, but she’s still a young woman navigating her way through love and life. I even joke that she probably has a blood-red hour-glass tattooed on her belly.

I do love pretty things, and she is no exception.

I tell her she looks great as always. She has been in some sunny destinations lately, so her skin is a darker brown than normal. I like it. It makes her look even more mysterious and exotic. I mention it and she immediately asks if I think it looks ugly. She always says things like that. She is so smart but so immature at the same time. She’s also a bit of a chatterbox. I think most men can’t handle that and don’t like a girl who talks too much. I don’t mind it. I like a girl who has things to say and experiences to share. I love to talk and entertain a woman, so it’s nice when I have a chatty girl so I don’t have to do all of the work. Women like a good listener and I grew up with three sisters. But what I can’t stand is what Carol used to do. Just babbling on nonstop like a tire spinning in the snow. (See: Carol 5/2014 to 8/2016 – There’s No Fun In Dysfunction)

I once read that women speak up to 20,000 words a day, compared to men, who speak only 12,000. So when we get home…We’re done!

It is puzzling how a woman this strikingly beautiful can’t keep a man. But the more you’re around her the more it makes sense. She says she’s been finding men on an app called J Swipe. It’s like Tinder for Jews. I asked her why that app? She said Jewish men normally appreciate women more, have good jobs, and have money. Sounds like she’s hunting for a husband. I think one of the challenges Sarika is facing is that she may be viewed more as a conquest. A creature to be captured and checked off of some list, because she’s so beautifully exotic.

She said she went out with a guy on Monday and even had a date with a pilot after our happy hour. So I assume I won’t be getting a tour of that gorgeous apartment in her building tonight. Sarika has a very busy life. She travels a great deal for her job as a scientist. I know she was formerly an engineer, but now I guess she’s a scientist. She makes great money and spends her other free time hopping on planes and taking little trips. It sounds like a fun life with all of the dating, and jet setting vacations, but it almost seems like she doesn’t want to be alone in her apartment. She’s crazy dating now. It’s good that she’s getting out there and meeting people after two years wasted with weasel man. But again, I can see men wanting her because she’s so beautiful, but she’s kind of annoying to talk to for any length of time. So if they get the opportunity to sleep with her they may not stick around.

Sarika is very intelligent and a nerd. I have taken her to Science after Hours at the Franklin Institute in the past. She loved it like a child. We went to see Jurassic World last summer, and Guardians of the Galaxy is her favorite movie. If my friend Duncan finds that up he’ll probably move up here from North Carolina. You would think guys would find that hot. A pretty girl who likes guy stuff and sci-fi, but it hasn’t worked. Maybe one of these many men that she is meeting for dates, will be rich and just marry her as a trophy wife. But sadly, people are funny about race in this country. They may want to sleep with a hot girl, but they may not want to bring and Indian woman back home to meet the family. I personally I have nothing against it. If you have been reading this blog, you know I love all different kinds of women. As Hank Moody says in the show Californication, “I got all your albums. I love you all and you and you included, Sarika.”

My buddy Church shows up at Scarpetta. I’m happy to see him. Once Sarika  goes on her date at One Tippling Place up the street, he and I can go to Square 1682 and have a drink. Church knows everybody in the restaurant and bar business in this town, so when he orders a drink and the server brings it over, she says, “This one is on Nathan.” He’s the GM there so Church got the hook up. I get another drink, but Sarika is only having the one so she doesn’t show up drunk for her date at 7:00.

While I was waiting at the bar to get my drink, Church chatted with Sarika. I was a little glad that it took the bartender a little time to get to me and make my drink. Normally I don’t like that, but I thought it would give Church a chance to talk to Sarika.

I get back to our little area by the window. We all chat a bit more. Sarika has to go soon, so she heads back to the ladies room. Church tells me she wouldn’t stop talking and it was driving him crazy. He’s been on edge lately, and listening to Sarika go on about something was annoying him. He said something to the effect, “I wanted to put a gun in my mouth.” He said she is so vacuous and self-absorbed and all she talked about was herself.

He once said that about another attractive girl who talked a lot. He was in a car with her and she was talking non stop and he said, “I wanted to leap right out of the car while it was going 70 miles per hour down the highway.”

Sarika returns, and I put her coat on for her. I tell her I will pay for the one drink she had. She tells me she’ll get me next time. I give her a kiss on the cheek good-bye and she’s off. I get the bill for my two old-fashioneds and her dainty drink. It should come to over $22 plus tax. I look at it and it’s only $15. So I got the hookup because I was with Church.

Dude certainly has the power.

I think next we’ll do a happy hour with my friend Carly.  So the night went well and again without incident.

So maybe my pretty little arachnid is finally growing up.

I love Sarika. She is beautiful, and I enjoy her company, if nobody else does, and I can’t wait to see her again.

(Oh… and if you’ve somehow found this and other stories Sarika, I’ll understand if you cut me off. The truth always hurts more than fiction)

 

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Michelle – 2007 to Present – Chapter 8 – New York City – Sunday

We woke up sometime the next morning in our motel room. I started calling it the Guns and Roses suite because there were clothes and stuff strewn everywhere. We got ourselves together and got back to Journal Square and headed back into the city. The Path train took us back to 32nd and Sixth Avenue.  We headed east and found a nice breakfast spot. I think it was the first time either of us ever drank Bloody Marys. We kind of needed them. It had been a long night.

After breakfast we hung out in a park. There was live music and people walking their dogs. I was sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree. It was such a beautiful sunny day. Michelle was leaning against me, and I was just happy to be holding her close. We stayed there for a while and then headed downtown. We stopped somewhere in SOHO so Michelle could use the restroom. When she came out she said, “That is literally the filthiest restroom I have ever gone in.” I don’t even know if she was able to go. I know this has nothing to do with the story, but I just remembered it.

We went to this nice restaurant and started drinking martinis. Which for us is never a good choice, but back then we drank a lot of martinis. They get you there fast. But sometimes take you too far. Michelle liked her martinis dirty. I prefer them straight up with a twist. Ketel One if they have it. Ketel is my favorite vodka. I once met the 9th generation son of the family that invented Ketel One. I still have the signed bottle on my mantle.

My rule on martinis is this: One is not enough. Two is too many. Three is just right.

We met another couple and were having a great time chatting with them. The drinks and laughs were flowing. Our server was really nice too. It was a really nice place. We were both periodically getting up to use the restroom, because I suppose the alcohol was going through us. I don’t remember whose idea it was, and I don’t even know why, but at some point it was decided that we were going to run out on our bill. We were really sweet, nice people.  Why would they even ask for a credit card up front. We would never do anything like that.

But we did.

Again, we were drunk, and in a strange city. We pulled some crazy shit in Philly as you will read in the coming chapters, but as far as I can remember, we never did that. I still feel ashamed about that and I’m sure Michelle does too. But I’m sure some karma has already come around and hit us both in different ways. When you do that, the bill comes back on the server. So we screwed him out of over $160 that night. Please don’t ever do this. It’s terrible behavior, but we were out of control back then. Like Bonnie and Clyde. There is no excuse for what we did. If I could remember where that bar is in New York, and that guy still worked there, I would go hand him $200 for us being punk ass morons.

So we dash out of there, and hail a cab. Michelle is freaking out thinking we’re going to get caught. I think she was having some problem with her shoe or something. We jump in the taxi and tell the driver to take us to Times Square. The funniest part I think for me was when Michelle saw police lights in the distance behind us. She switched out her scarf for a yellow pashmina and put it on her head as a disguise. I don’t think the NYPD is interested in assholes that run out on their bar bills. There’s real crime in New York.

We do pay the fare for the cab and hop out at Broadway and Seventh. Right in the heart of Times Square. We are drunk and exhilarated. I remember standing on this little concrete island in the middle of the street and just kissing Michelle deeply. It was one of those landmark Hollywood film moments. The couple in love. New York City blazing around them. The sights. The sounds of the city. All of the colors, and lights, and cabs, and people. The camera whirls around them as they kiss. All is a blur but them. It is a shining symbol of everything they are at that moment. I am so in love with her. I’m not afraid. I want to be with her forever.

This mighty city that discarded me and sent me packing back to Philadelphia a year ago. I have now returned briefly with my queen. To conquer and plunder its walls.

We stumble down the street. Everything is awash in lights and sounds of the city. We decide we’ve had enough, and want to go back to our room at the motel. We walk about a block when we come upon a stretch limousine. The driver sticks his head out the window, and says “I want the cologne he’s wearing.” He says, obviously referring to Michelle. She says something about how it’s not the cologne, it’s the man. My head swells with pride. “Want a ride?” he says.

“You serious?”

“Sure, where ya goin’?”

“The PATH train.”

“Get in.”

I kid you not, that happened. We get in and there is beer and other booze in the car. There are also bags of goodies. Somebody else’s stuff. I toss a beer to Michelle, and crack one myself. We’re laughing and chatting with the driver. Despite our recent foray into crime,  we decide not to steal any of the stuff in the limo. It’s obvious, this chauffeur was parked waiting for whoever hired him, and just wanted make a quick fare to kill time. There was a bottle of this gross Seagram’s raspberry twist. Which is just an awful liqueur. Michelle stuffed it in her bag. (It was half full, and that’s all we took.) So here are these two fugitives from justice, drunk and in love, being driven to the train station in a stretch limo. I slide the guy like $30 and we thank him and hop out.

There was something about the energy that Michelle and I gave off when we were together. It’s not something you could see, but something you could feel. We would get access to whatever we wanted. No matter if we were supposed to be there or not. I’d be in a suit with my trustworthy face, and she with her radiant beauty. In the coming chapters you’ll see how this happened over and over. We literally could get away with anything.

We get back to the Guns and Roses suite at the Skyline Motel. This has been a crazy weekend. This is the also the first time I made love to Michelle. I was nervous, but madly in love. I remember at one point I looked up at the mirror on the ceiling. I couldn’t believe that was me up there making love to Michelle. Everybody wanted her. But she chose me.

There was something I didn’t mention before. As genetically perfect as Michelle is, she is terribly myopic. It’s like God created her, stepped back and thought, that’s too good. Let me just screw up her eyes a little so she develops some character. Let me give you an example of how blind my baby is. After we fool around, she goes to use the bathroom. The room is dark. I’m on the bed. I pull the sheet over my head. She comes out and says, “Where’d you go?” I pull down the sheet. “Oh God, I thought you left the room.” This chick is blind. I always told her that it was a good thing. Because as her vision gets worse, and I get older, she’ll still think I look good!

We’re lying in bed together. “So…are you my girlfriend now?”

“What do you think?” Michelle replies.

I’m really happy. I’ve won.We fall asleep in each others arms.

To be honest with you, I don’t remember much else of this trip. I don’t even remember driving home. I know I had the bottle of awful liqueur in my closet at my apartment for a year before I threw it out. Maybe if I turn this blog into a book, I’ll have more details about everything. All I know is, I was in love, and being with Michelle were some of the best times of my life.

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

 

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Welcome to PhicklePhilly!

This blog will be about my life here in Philadelphia. People I meet, and the experiences I have with them. Mostly women. I am a gentleman, but I have been told I am very fickle. My goal is to write a different little story each week. They will all be true, colorful and candid. “Life is fleeting and fragile. Enjoy yourself!”