Rebecca – Chapter 3 – Dark Wings of Destiny

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

Rebecca was right next to me. I could feel the energy. I felt really close to her. “The city is so beautiful” she said. She turned to me. “You are” I replied.

And that’s when our lips met. My Lord. I’m too old for this. Wait…no I’m not. I kissed her. Her lips were soft as she yielded to me. She folded into me like an old friend. It was just like I just stepped off stage at the Troubadour in Los Angeles and she loved the song that I had written about her. I was ageless in that moment. Overcome. Beautiful. This can’t be happening but it is. Her lips are sweet and a little sticky. Minty. Human.

Her pupils were so big, it’s like her eyes were black instead of green. Her cheeks flushed and she giggled. I gently brushed her dark hair from her face and behind her ear. She slipped from me and cocked her head. It was as if she were trying to see me in a different way. “Let’s go look at some more stuff” she said, smiling. All I could hear was Midnight Moses playing in my head by the Dead Daisies. 

We continued to wander though the museum. Just going from room to room. I was making her laugh a lot about some things because that’s what I do. I think at this point it was more nerves than game. I was smitten. I’m like a child at this point. I really am. I’m just amazed to be alive at this moment.  But this is the old me. The new, old me. I shouldn’t follow this path.

We went into this one room and the whole room is art in architecture. Glorious big rooms that are incredible and opulent. We are looking around the room and I’m behind her and she just leans back into me, and she is again in my arms. Is it the art? Is it me? It can’t be me. This is nuts, but the euphoria is glorious. I love this. This is my favorite part of everything. The beginning. Ignition. I’ve always been this way, much to the disappointment of the women in my life. But for right now I am living in this moment. None of this makes any sense but I am mainlining this feeling. She turns in my arms and nuzzles her lips and nose to mine. Her eyes are smokey and dark. Lashes flash and she smiles. She looks deeply into my eyes. Rebecca pulls me into her world and kisses me again.

And again…

There was a moment when we were sitting in one of the galleries and she was so excited by a work of art she grabbed my hand. She clasped it tightly in both of her hands as she described her passion for the work.  It was one of my favorites as well. The couple coming home from the carnival. I feel her soft hand clasp mine. She’s holding my hand in her lap. Dopamine drops and I am blind. The work was beautiful. But, I could no longer see it. It was gone. As was I. All I could feel in that moment was the back of my hand against Rebecca’s warm thigh.

I think we were at the PMA for 3 maybe 4 hours. I have no sense of time at this point with Rebecca. If I never hear from her again, I’m okay. This was a special sacred moment that I can wrap myself up in tonight. It’ll be just like waking up from a beautiful dream.

Obviously we did get around to inquiries. Being overwhelmed by beauty and art only lasts so long. I asked he why she is on Tinder. She said that she wanted to meet someone good. Someone that understood her and liked the things she liked. She told me at her age her friends aren’t really friends at all. They are just a bunch of young fools that smoke a bunch of weed and get drunk all of the time. She has ambition and wants to make something of herself. (she did seem really mature while we were texting) She told me she kind of went on Tinder to try. She gave me an example of a conversation she had with a boy her age recently. They were chatting and she asked him what he was looking for and he said he’d like to have some fun. When she asked him to define “fun” he sent her a photo of his genitals. That is some sad textbook shit right there. She explained to me that as an emergency room nurse, she gets her fill of seeing plenty of junk on a regular basis. “I don’t want to see his dick. I saw 5 dicks today and I had to put a catheter in and 85-year-old dick today”

My unblinking response: Okay…..okay…

She said she met another guy. She loved his mind and political views and he was just a really smart guy. She thought maybe her love of his mind and heart would translate into sex but she just wasn’t lit when they kissed. Women know. It’s either on in their minds and bodies or it’s not. Sadly boys, men do not have this ability. She said she went on 4 dates with him and it was done. He was divorced and really into his kids, I think she said they were 16 and 19. He wanted to have her over and they were going to have dinner with the gang, and it all seemed weird because the teens were a little uncomfortable with their 54-year-old father bringing over a girl who was only 4 years older than the 19-year-old son.

Fuck.  I’m jaded as hell and I hate that story. But it really came down to the fact that there was no chemistry. And that’s critical because I have made that kind of lightening strike twice in the same place in the last decade. But what I noticed was she liked him but just wasn’t feeling the intimacy when they kissed. It just wasn’t there. She said she really liked him as a man and tried to keep the friendship going but he realized there was no fire so he withdrew. He has since moved on and even recently married.

So is this chick into older men? I suppose so because she is so bright and mature in her head. She’s got the brain of Emily Dickenson and the body of Vanessa Hudgens.

What am I supposed to do with that?  I never saw any of this coming when I started this blog. I thought I would be just writing about my experiences with women here in Philly over the last 10 years and this curve ball blindsided me.

She told me her dad is a big guy who is from New York and he’s a caricature of a New Yorker. Works for the railroad. Her uncle travels the world and sounds like a cool guy that works and makes enough money and then moves to the Philippines and lives like a king for a year and then does it again somewhere else. That sounds awesome. I don’t have the freedom to do that but if I did you know I’d be there in Thailand risking arrest every year until I die. But I digress…

We wander back to the first floor and are nearing the exit. She validates her parking because apparently she is a member of the museum which I find super cool. We walk out the door and go to the elevator to the parking garage. I didn’t know the PMA had this. It must be new.  I walk her to her car. It’s dusty and blue. We do the perfunctory statement. I like you. I want to see you again. But those words are hollow. I think I may never see her again. This all seems so unreal. I have not felt this in years. Please don’t let this happen again. But I want the drug of love. Not love. Just the drug. I feel like a helpless addict.

She looks up at me under the flourescent lights of the stark concrete shapeless parking garage. Her green eyes flash in the light like pale emeralds. She runs her hands through her thick mane of dark hair. I watch as it tumbles back to her shoulders through her fingers. Her neatly manicured fingernails. The lean muscles in her arms. She smiles. Sort of a sly, half-smile. Like she knows something about me that I haven’t revealed. I think she senses it in my eyes. I smile and try to clear that. But she sees me. It’s unsettling. She places her petite hands together likes she’s praying, and then spreads them and reaches for me. Her hands hit my shoulders and pull me toward her. She kisses me. The kiss is deep and wet. Her tongue swirls. I am lost in this sensous moment.

But just for a moment.

Rebecca: “I like you. The Fringe Festival is happening soon. Can we go to something?”

You all know my answer.

She places her foot against the door and adjusts her shoe. I steal a glance at her well turned leg. She lingers on the laces of her sneaker. It’s taking too long. It’s as if she wants to remind me of what I like. She knows. She’s reading me. Come on. Nobody can do that. Maybe it’s all in my head, but her legs are exquisite and she knows she has touched the beyond.

She drives away and I am back on the street behind the museum. No fish fell from the sky. I order an UBER. He arrives in 8 minutes and I am on my way back to Rittenhouse. I am sitting in the back of the Toyota Avalon and my mind is reeling. I need to hold it together. He’s lost for some reason and I have to guide the driver home. I get out and realize I haven’t eaten in over 8 hours. I stop at my local corner shop and order a slice to go. I get back to the bat cave and text her.

“Home safe. Had a lovely evening with you.”

Crickets.

Panic.

“I was just about to text you the same thing! See you soon! XOXO- Rebecca”

We’ll just have to see how this one plays out. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but if it goes well,  I will be getting airbags installed in the headboard of my bed.

Old habits die hard.

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 – 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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Valerie – Love me Tinder – Date 1

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

Hello! So here we are with another installment of Phickle Philly! It’s off the regular schedule of every Tuesday but this just happened. So let’s just jump into it. I recently went on Tinder. A friend of mine told me about it. Actually, he’s not a friend, he’s more an acquaintance. Actually he’s some sleazy lawyer that attached himself to me like a sea lamprey so he could get into events and eat and drink for free.

So I downloaded the app and set up a profile. I was honest about who I am and what I’m looking for on the site.  Well not totally, but after much thought I went with “LTR.” Long term relationship. Actually in truth I would just like to date a bit and then, and only then if I really click with someone it will become a long-term relationship. Some people want hook ups and some want casual dating and others want LTR. But lets face it people, Everybody wants a long term relationship. No matter how many ways you can deny it or say, “I just can’t” or “I’m not ready” that’s all bullshit. Unless you are just a wicked person that is mean and mentally ill and a felon or violent or on some sort of controlled substance and because you can’t break from your addiction you want to be in a LTR.

And I’ll tell you why. Remember the rush of falling in love? Yea. It’s the greatest drug in the world. Take it from someone has fallen in love many times. It’s amazing. The excitement the butterflies, the raw euphoria of falling in love with someone. There is nothing like it. The only thing that for me ever came close is playing rock on stage with my band and people are cheering about some song you wrote in your bedroom when you were broken-hearted because Linda isn’t returning your phone calls anymore. So I’m on Tinder to go on a few dates and see what happens, but we all know bottom line… it’s either hell yea or hell no. Anybody that tells you different is either nuts or is still wounded from  past relationship. We’re sentient beings. We’re an extremely social species. We need to be loved. We yearn for it. And anybody that doesn’t believe that is a liar.

So there are a few things you can do on Tinder. People’s pictures come up and so does their bio if they have one. one your phone you swipe right if you like them or swipe left if you are not interested. But… there is a little blue star icon at the bottom of the page and if you REALLY like someone, you can hit the star button and Super Like them. That’s what Valerie did to me.

So that’s a good thing. She has a good job, is attractive and age appropriate. We’ve been chatting a little bit on the site and have even exchanged cell numbers. So we set up a date to meet for a drink at the Liberte bar at Sofitel hotel. That date is tonight at 5:30. So I will write more tomorrow after the date takes place and we see how it goes.

The Date

It was humid out as it has been lately, so around 3:30 I took a taxi up to 16th and Chestnut Street. It took forever because of the traffic. I hopped out and walked over to 15th and Market. I stopped at a street cart and grabbed a hot dog because I was hungry. Not too hungry and I didn’t want to feel bloated.  Just a light snack to wear as drinking armor. I walked south on 15th street. I do have to say, if there is one street I hate to walk on 15th street between Market and Chestnut. It’s just an ugly space. I don’t really want to go into why at this point but if you are ever there you’ll get it. I turned right on Ranstead, which between 15th and 16th is nothing more than a filthy alley. As I walked along I saw the back of 1517 Chestnut street. It’s just a door with a doorbell. But I know it better as an Asian massage parlor that is simply a black door on Chestnut next to 5 Guys Burgers. So apparently you can come in one door and go out the other! (future blog) I stopped up to see my friend Kelly. ( Kelly will be featured in a future blog) She works on 16th at a beauty salon. I chatted with her a bit and then headed to Davio’s on 17th street. I wanted to get a base coat on just to take the edge off, so I ordered a martini. My favorite bartender there was on shift and he always makes me a great one. And the best part? It’s only $6.60. That is an incredible price for a martini in this city. Normally you’d pay twice that. My friend Carly who also works there, (future blog post) stopped to say hello. I told her I had to go soon because I had a date across the street at Sofitel at 5:30. She said if it didn’t go well I could count on her to extract me from the situation. So after two martinis I was more than ready to go. I really wanted to smoke a cigarette, but I thought it prudent not to because you never get a second chance to make a first impression. So I walked over to Sofitel. The bar was dead. I was glad because I wanted to be somewhere quiet so we could chat. I ordered a glass of their house chardonnay. Another nice thing they do at Sofitel is put some assorted snacks on the bar. A rare occurrence these days.

Valerie arrived at 5:30. Looked good. Looked better than her pics. Her blonde hair was longer than I remembered. She ordered a glass of red and we started chatting. We covered the usual stuff. It is easier when you both are from the same generation. There was laughter and some kisses exchanged. This is brand new so I am being careful what I write here. Normally I’ll go all guns blazing, but what if this really turns into something. We seemed to hit it off. What if after this I’m not fickle anymore? Wait… I’m getting ahead of myself here.  So after two martinis at Davio’s and three glasses of wine at Sofitel, I was a little tipsy. So things are a little fuzzy. At one point I asked her if she still “Super Liked” me. She smiled and said yes! So after a couple of hours we wrapped it up and said our goodbyes.

But… not before she got me email and locked down another date for next week! Yes. Her idea! We are going out again next Wednesday. She wants to go to the movies. Perfect! I love film. The date will be at 7:30 and she says she’ll send me info on what movie we’re going to see. So I’ll be covering that here too!

This has been an unexpected twist in the writing of this blog. I was only going to publish once a week but now I feel like when these events occur in real-time I should post them immediately as sort of a bonus to my readers. I’ll cover the usual tales each week but when something breaks that’s hot. I’ll drop it right away!

The game is afoot!

 

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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Maria – Chapter 2 – Amor en Vano – Part II

Another tale of one man’s journey through the dating scene in Philadelphia. Searching for true love.

In our last episode, our hero was meeting with Maria at a coffee shop to find out why she had been let go from her job. But does he have ulterior motives?

Maria stated that it was one incident on a Saturday night where she did one shot with a table of people. But she said some of the other servers said she was drinking all night long, and that simply wasn’t true. (I believe her) I was just happy that she was talking to me and meeting with me over coffee. I asked her what was she going to do now and she said she had already gotten another job at a nicer restaurant. I was surprised it happened so fast but in that industry there is always turnover, and they always need experienced help. (And because she’s smart and understands the hospitality industry) Maria lamented that she’d have to learn a new menu but other than that it was a decent gig. I had been to the new place when it opened and I thought it was a great spot in a good area. The food was good, so she’d probably do well there.

And that’s when I said the following. “Maria, I have something else I need to share with you.” She crossed her arms. I’m really good at reading people’s body language so I tried to put her at ease. I told her that I had real feelings for her. You have to be willing to take risks like this if you want the better rewards in life. But I will tell you, sometimes you roll the dice and your number doesn’t come up. Maybe on a later roll, but sometimes you leave the casino alone and broke.  She said she didn’t want to be misconstrued on how she was when she would serve us at the restaurant.

I understand if a server is sweet and a little flirty it helps garner bigger tips. It’s just human psychology. I told her she was just being friendly and that it was her personality that shone through. I told her all of those times we came into the restaurant all I wanted to see was her. The weekends I would spend at my office working on ad copy. I would text her and say “I’m burning so many calories banging my head against the wall trying to come up with an idea for this ad campaign it’s making me hungry. Should I come see you and have some delicious sliders?” That was the sort of thing I would do but it was all about wanting to see her.

She responded, “Do you think we’d be compatible?” And I said, “We went to the flower show, that was great and you don’t know if you’re compatible until you spend time with someone.” I simply told her how I felt about her. I think she was surprised, but at least I know it’s out there now and I’ve said it. I know she’s sporty and I’m more of the arts guy but who knows? Stranger things have happened. (Please continue reading this blog each week and you’ll know!) She was on her way to the new job when she met me, so I bid her farewell and told her I’d stay in touch. We hugged and she was gone. At least now she knew what I felt for her.

I told Maria that me and my colleague were going to boycott the old place for firing her by never going there again, but that clearly wasn’t happening. The food is delicious there and we still love the lunch hostess, Mary (See: Mary – Unexpected Table for Two) and a couple of the other servers there!

Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion!

 

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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.

Instagram: @phicklephilly         Facebook: phicklephilly       Twitter: @phicklephilly