Phicklephilly – Fat And Curvy Are Not The Same

In the last few years, it has become the so-called “polite” thing to call a fat person “curvy” so as to appear less harsh/make them feel sexier and more desired/appear to be accepting of anything other than a size 0.

And while politeness, skirting the issue, and trying to find a way to accept such a body shape is no bad thing, we need to stop lumping (excuse the pun) these people together with actual curvy girls. This is not a fat-shaming exercise; it’s simply an observation about the way we view body image. Curves imply arcs, parts of the body that wave in and out—not rolls of excess fat and skin, sagging over the bones it’s meant to be covering.

It’s bad enough that we have to contend with the fact that plus-size models are actually still below the average dress size of women in the country, but to lump all those not fitting one boyish, skinny frame as “curvy” is just obscene. You wouldn’t call a rectangle a square because it has the same number of sides, so why should you bundle together different types of women who are completely different just because their clothes are labeled above a certain number?

It may be harsh to say, but there’s no way a healthy naturally curvy girl wants to be thought of in the same bracket as someone who resembles the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man, or the Michelin Man… looking like their kneecaps will crumble under their own weight in a few years. Curvy is Amber Rose. (Pictured above) Curvy is no more Melissa McCarthy than it is Kate Moss any day of the week. So why is it easy for us to distinguish skinny from athletic, athletic from curvy, but not curvy from a more rounded figure to a clinically obese person?

If we want to accept all body types and people of all shapes and sizes, shouldn’t we first establish that there are actual major differences in body types? Forget the numbers, the labels, the scales, and everything else—just use your eyes. There’s a visible difference. This is fact. So let’s address it.

We may be years away from the fashion industry opening up to the possibility of shapes other than a straight, thin line, but we can all start to change our own attitudes today. Be real, and be honest for crying out loud.

Now this is CURVY …. And it is GLORIOUS.

Fucking Gorgeous!!!

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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 – 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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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.

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