Alicia – Bar Owner

After the 3 part Cherie series last week, I wanted to give everyone a little break from me and my girlfriend. So here’s a story from my past to entertain you until my next encounter with Cherie.

I had recently gotten divorced back in 2001 and one of my friends decided to hook me up with Alicia who was about 10 years younger than me and “Owned a bar”. (Love her already!) She drove a super nice car and wore clothes much nicer than mine, so I figured she was a little high maintenance or just a successful bar owner.

We meet at a party and she’s awesome, super pretty, fun, and says she LOVES TO PLAY POKER in Atlantic City. This is great because I said we should go play some time. We hit it off great and make plans to go the next weekend.

The next weekend rolls around and I meet her at her house (Borderline mansion), and I drive us down to AC. It’s about 45 minutes/miles to AC. We chat and have a great time the entire way. We also make the agreement that whatever we both win we split. If I win $500 and she wins $700 it’s $600 for the both of us.

We get there and I pull out $600 from the ATM to sit and play cash, strangely she doesn’t pull out anything so I assume she brought cash. Before we even make it to the poker pit she says “Let’s play some slots”…. Now I HATE slots and think they’re for suckers but I’m not above dropping a bill for fun so we sit down and I open my wallet. She snatches a bill…. $500 left… which after a couple of max bets is GONE… I say, “Lets go” and she says “Let me try one more time” and I go to check my wallet for anything less than a $100 bill…. she snatches another…. Now I’m down to $400.

Now I know damn well looking back I should have called bullshit right then and there but I was young and she was hot. I’ve always had a weakness for beauty.

She drains the hundred and we proceed to the poker pit. Right at the entrance I pull out my wallet to get my $400 to sit and like a fucking ninja she snatches $200 and says, “I’m gonna play slots while you play poker” and is gone before I can say anything!!!

I am seething mad but also a pretty good poker player.  I sit with the table minimum of $200 and quickly make back the $400 she took plus $200. She comes back like an hour later and says, “look what I won with that $200 and has a slip for $700!! I snatch it as soon as she shows me. I cash out my $800 and head to the cashier with $800 in chips and the $700 ticket from her. $1500 isn’t looking bad.

I cash everything and hand her $450… half of the $900 after I recoup my $600 that I withdrew. I’m met with “Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! Where’s my $750?!?!”

There was no explaining that we were splitting everything we WON and that I recouped my $600 and split the $900 that remained. Alicia’s screaming mad and keeps telling me that it’s not fair and I’m screwing her etc.

I have no clue what to do…. we’re in Atla,ntic City 45 minutes from home and she’s coming undone at the seams in front of god and everybody. This is the point I decide to nut up and just start walking to my car with her SCREAMING in tow.

We get to the car and it’s the longest most awkward drive home. 45 minutes of dead silence (which wasn’t that bad considering her yelling before!) and we reach her place. I stop and she looks at me and says “I hope you weren’t planning on coming in and getting fucked.”

Deadpanned, I reply “You’ve been fucking me all night, I think I’ve had enough.”

Come to find out, mommy and daddy owned the house, car and bar. Alicia was a part-time bar-back while going to school.

I hate my friends.

 

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Michelle – Chapter 12 – The Good, The Bad, and The Awesome

“Your behavior is making the other guests uncomfortable. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

These stories aren’t really long enough to support their own chapters, so I’ve decided to round them up into a nice little trilogy for you. Enjoy!

 

The Mann

Michelle was having some minor problems with her lady parts. It was nothing serious, but she said that until things got back into proper balance we couldn’t have sex for like two weeks.

I guess because I was still in my love/euphoria phase of our relationship and I went out of my mind. I don’t even remember why. We had a fight about it. It was weird. Why would I get angry if I couldn’t have sex for two weeks? I’ve gone for longer than that.

It was the Fourth of July and we had tickets to see the symphony play out at the Mann amphitheater. I remember us both being in a bit of a snit on the drive over. Then I decided to do something to hopefully impress her, because I didn’t want my bad behavior to wreck our night. I pulled out a cassette and popped it in the player in the dash. This was 2008 and although I had all CDs this particular car was a 1994 Ford Taurus wagon. All you could play in it were cassettes.

Anyway, the cassette I popped in were studio recordings of three songs I wrote and recorded in the studio years before. Tear Me Up, Betty Ann and Can’t Let Her Go. I composed those songs and played all of the instruments on them. Well not all of them. The drum track was digitally created. I played guitar, bass and sang all of the songs.

Michelle liked them. I think she said it sounded like eighties music. But as we listened to the last song as we were pulling into the parking lot, we had both cheered up and I was done being an asshole about not getting laid.

We got some food and got a couple of glasses of wine. It was still light out because of the time of year. You could see the city off to the east. It looked beautiful at sunset. I think we brought a couple of bottles of wine with us, but we didn’t want to crack them until we got situated in our spot.

We put our blanket down on the grass and took a seat. I was surprised at the amount of people who were there. It’s nice to see that classical music is still enjoyed. We ate the snacks we brought and drank our wine. It was so nice lying out on the grass like that on a warm night. The music was wonderful and at one point I may have even dozed off.

At the end of the show the finale was with fireworks. Behind us they began to burst in the sky as the orchestra played on the stage. We simply rolled over on our blanket and looked back and could see everything. It was a lovely night and one we won’t forget. We were so well-behaved for a change!

 

Parx Casino

Parx was a client of mine at the company Michelle and I worked. A casino is always good for recruitment as well as brand advertising. My contact invited us up for dinner. So we decided to make a night of it. They comped us on a really nice dinner with cocktails and wine. We gambled a bit. We’re not really into gambling. we’d rather spend $20 on wine than pump it into a slot machine. I remember sitting at the bar with Michelle, watching the Phillies killing it in the playoffs, playing video poker and smoking cigarettes. That’s a lot of vice right there. But we had a wonderful night.

Parx at the time had a hotel that was across their vast parking lot. I don’t know if they have built up and gotten one closer, but it did seem odd at the time. So we stumbled over to the hotel and went to bed. It was late and I think I snored a lot that night. If Michelle wasn’t drunk enough it would keep her up at night. So I don’t think she slept all that well.

I woke up early the next morning with quite a hang over. I figured if I got some fresh air it would give Michelle a chance to sleep in. I went across the street to a diner and ate a monster breakfast. If you’re not too sick to eat, a solid breakfast will fix you up. Eggs, bacon, pancakes are all good fuel for the body. Protein, carbs and sugar. That, and drink as much water as you can. You’ve gotta clean that machine. I was over there for a bit and then came back to the room. We checked out and drove back to the city.

But the story doesn’t end there. We put my car in the lot at the company where I worked. I planned on staying over at Michelle’s place that night. We ended up going to a bar out by her apartment for a little hair of the dog. It’s called Kite and Key. Solid food and beverage program. We sat outside and started with champagne, later switching over to wine. I think we were there for over six hours. But once again, we were well-behaved.

 

The Four Seasons

Let’s see if we can stay well-behaved three times in a row.

One night Michelle and I were out on what I believe was a Friday night. We went especially hard on Friday nights. Partly from the stress of our jobs in advertising sales and just happy it was the weekend.

We hit a few of our usual haunts, Twenty Manning being one of them, but at some point during the night we ended up in the Fountain Room at the Four Seasons Hotel. We were sitting at a table in the corner and were drinking martinis. The Four Seasons is one of the nicest if not the very best hotel in the city. It attracts celebrities and the affluent. I remember using the urinal in the bathroom and the guy next to me was wearing a tuxedo.

So we’re there at the table and we’re getting a little amorous. Now, I’m not a big fan of PDA (public displays of affection) but I love her, and she’s gorgeous, and I’m drunk. So some of the things that we were doing became a bit arousing and sexual in nature. But I’m not going to go into detail here. Use your imagination. We didn’t care, and frankly we couldn’t help ourselves. Love is a powerful drug.

So the Maitre d comes over and leans in and says: “Your behavior is making the other guests uncomfortable. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

I’m not one to start trouble. I was just a fool in love. I know when it’s time to go. If I fucked up enough to get thrown out of a bar in the nicest hotel in the city, I better do it with a certain level of dignity.

We apologized and paid our bill and got up and left. Of course we were escorted to the door to make sure we left, but at least this time it wasn’t by law enforcement.

But the story doesn’t end there. When we went out into the street. We saw that it had rained. We were up near the Ben Franklin Parkway. I looked down and there at our feet was around eight dollars in cash! The bills were wet, but we were both forty bucks richer.

But the story doesn’t end there either!

Around two months after the incident I called the banquet coordinator at the Fountain Room. I told her we had met at event and I was really impressed with her and the space.  I was representing my company and was considering the Fountain Room as a place we could have lunches with clients and hold meetings there. (A bold-faced lie)

She was delighted that I had called her, and invited me to come in and sample the food. I told her I would be bringing my associate with me to the lunch. I gave her my name and she made the reservation. I told Michelle, and of course she was nervous about going back there because of our behavior. I was nervous when we arrived there too. If the President of our company ever found out we used the company’s name to pull another stunt, I’m sure he would’ve fired the both of us.

We go in and I give them my name. I don’t see anybody that I know. The girl I spoke to on the phone wasn’t even there. They seated us in a small private room near the window. We had this really great waiter. They treated us like gods. The lunch was delicious. and so was the dessert. We refrained from anything alcoholic, but they offered. When we finished eating there was no bill. It was absolutely free. That had been my plan all along. Get a free lunch out of the Four Seasons as their apology for throwing out the Dark Lord and his Queen!

Sadly, the Four Seasons is no longer there. It’s called the Logan Hotel. It’s all different inside now. I don’t go there. The good news is, The Four Seasons is taking several of the top floors of the new Comcast tower that is currently being built. It will be the tallest building in the city upon its completion. So who knows, maybe I can get up to some new deviltry in the new Four Seasons in 2017!

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

 

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Spinner – 2001 to Present – The Broad Street Bullies

The funniest guy I know…

Before I start this one, I’m very proud to announce that I have reached  500 followers! That’s 500 more than when I started this journey 6 months ago. I want to thank each and every one of you for reading phicklephilly. Your comments and likes have been wonderful, and I try to respond  to all of you. I have so many more stories to tell and I hope that this blog evolves into what it ultimately should be. I’m documenting my past loves and my quest to find true and sustainable love here in Philadelphia.

But hopefully I begin to examine who I am and how I got here, and what made me into who I am today.

I’m glad you’re all on the journey with me, and it pushes me forward to continue and never give up!

Thank you one and all!

 

I have known Spinner for over fifteen years. He is the funniest guy I know. He has a brain that somehow can put together words, phrases and ideas faster than anyone I know.

He used to work for me back in 2002. He was hired as a bank teller at a branch I managed in Mt. Laurel, NJ. I started to notice how funny he was after a while. He and I developed a good rapport. One day Spinner just stopped coming to work. So our head teller fired him. I think he just hated working for the head teller who was an angry asshole. I liked Spinner, so I kept in touch with him.

We actually started hanging out. We’d go out to eat at the mall and girl watch together. He was really cool to hang out with because he had such a quick wit. He has the ability to freestyle comic bits at lightening speed.

I remember he came over to my house one time. He had a flyer that had information about an upcoming comedy show at Stockton State College. As I read it I saw that he was headlining and that it was a fundraiser for spina bifida. Then I saw that my name was on it as one of the comedians on the bill. I laughed and asked him what that was about. He simply told me that I was one of the funniest people he knew and that I would kill. I thanked him and told him there was a distinct difference between me and the other comics. I didn’t have an act!

Although I was terrified, I was still intrigued. I wrote some material and went out and did it. The thing with fear is, unfortunately you have to run toward it to overcome it, not away from it. That simple piece of advice given to me by an old friend, helped me overcome much of my lifelong anxiety disorder. Stand up is terrifying. Playing in a band is scary until you get through the first song and start rocking, then it’s awesome. But standing alone on a quiet stage with a spotlight in your face, and making people laugh is really hard.

So I did it. It was nerve-wracking, but also fun. The peals of laughter coming back from the audience from what you’re saying is similar to the cheers and applause you get playing rock. It’s just a little different high. I did well and somebody even shot a video. Spinner ended up transferring it to a VHS tape and gave me a copy. He said I was the best of all of the comics. I was so happy. But try to find something to play that tape on now!

I have since gone on to perform stand up in New York, and here at the Laff House in Philly. It’s all thanks to my buddy Spinner.

Sometimes we would go to the Tropicana in Atlantic City, and he would gamble. He likes roulette. I’m not a gambler, so I would just blow through twenty dollars and then drink and talk to women. Sometimes he would win a lot of money, but obviously, that doesn’t happen all of the time.

I moved to New York and didn’t see him as much anymore. But we always kept in touch. If I was around on a weekend to see my daughter, sometimes he’d hang out too.

But in the last year or two Spinner and I have reconnected and have been attending sporting events. I’m not a sports fan, but it’s really fun to go out with someone who is, and understands the game. Plus, as an added bonus the guy is a fucking riot.

Spinner is a huge baseball fan. He loves the Boston Red Sox. We’ve seen the Sox, the Phillies, and most recently a Flyers game. I have realized hanging out with Spinner why men love sports so much. It’s the competitive nature of the game. I love the exchange of power. If your team comes out and they trounce the other guys, it’s no fun to watch. But if we’re up and they take away our lead, it’s on! We have to fight to get it back to win. It’s very exciting to me.

I was never into hockey at all. It looked violent and moved too fast. Now, I love it. The talent of these athletes! Chasing and controlling that little puck all the while on ice skates! It’s such an intense and fast paced sport. Really good. I loved seeing that game and really want to see more. (The Flyers won after a sudden death tie. It was glorious!)

So hopefully this interesting and enduring friendship continues. I want to see more live sporting events! As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been better at maintaining relationships, but in this case Spinner, he has been the one that has kept us connected over the last few years and for that I am very grateful.

 

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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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Johnny R. – One Vice at a Time

Your eyes are not deceiving you. That is a dude. Phicklephilly is still for the most part, straight, and still fickle. Originally I was going to just write about the women I have met, dated, romanced, and loved in this city for the last 10 years. But now that I have been writing this for a while, I thought I’d like to make this into a book and possibly a TV series. So I’d like to start to introduce some male characters that I have met here in Philadelphia. I consider them friends, so they should be included in this story. This way when I make reference to them, you’ll know who they are.

I met Johnny, at my first advertising gig when I got back from New York. Same company where I met Michelle. He worked in the finance department. He’s originally from New York himself. Pretty big family. Irish Catholic. Both parents have passed on.

I met Johnny at a bar one night near where we worked. I was having drinks with some of the back office people in my department and the one girl was friends with Johnny. She introduced me and I liked the guy. He had a sharp wit, and sort of an attitude. I knew he was a smart guy.  So every time I was over at that bar he would be there with some of the gang. We sort of became friends from just running into each other at this particular watering hole.

I always said we should meet up for lunch and a beer one day on the weekend or something. I like Johnny. Like I said, he was a funny guy. Plus, we enjoyed and appreciated many of the same music acts, movies and TV shows.  So he decided one Saturday to come to the city to get his hair cut and said we could meet up after. He lives with his girlfriend of nearly 8 years. They share a house up in Mayfair which is part of Northeast Philly. Her family owns a house in Sea Isle City, NJ. She works in jewelry sales.

So he comes down on the train to center city.  I think we got some food together. But for the life of me I can’t remember where. Maybe one of the old mexican restaurants that’s been knocked down and converted into a Target. After lunch, he says he wants to stop and see a friend of his. So we walk through Rittenhouse and head over towards 15th street. He doesn’t mention exactly where his friend is. So we’re walking down 15th street and we’re crossing the street near Chancellor street. I assume his friend works at the Applebee’s on the corner. But he keeps walking down Chancellor. Then I see where his “friend” works. The place is down the end of the block, (Or filthy trash strewn and dumpster alley as I see it) It’s called the World Famous Gold Club. I have never heard of the place. At that point I didn’t know it existed.

Here’s my take of strip clubs or gentleman’s clubs. In all of my experience the majority of men that go to these places are usually all married, and unhappy in their relationships. Every guy I know that goes to these places, is unhappy and dissatisfied with his life. Granted, there are some older gentleman that are just sad and lonely and just want a little attention from some women and will pay to get it. I’m single. I am not currently in a relationship. I could go every night and get lap dances and probably even commit even more foul deeds with some of the harlots at the WFGC. But I have absolutely no interest.

I have nothing against these establishments or the folks that go there, but it’s just not really my scene. Every time I’ve gone to one of these places in the last 10 years, it’s been with some guy that is in some unhappy marriage or relationship. So these places serve a purpose. I’d rather hang out with real women that aren’t being paid to take off their clothes. But occasionally it is fascinating to go for the novelty. But for the most part it’s a big rip off. The girls will try to steal from you, the bartender will over charge you for drinks and you end up with a $200 bill. Even the ATM fee is $6 per transaction. The whole place is designed to separate poor saps from their cash. Many times by the time you’re drunk enough to want to go to a strip club, you are banged up to the point where the decisions you make are not the correct ones and you can be easily manipulated by dark forces.

But Johnny has introduced me to this little dive. It’s early on a Saturday so the place is quiet. Not many girls are working. He introduces me to his friend. She was a bartender there. Pretty face but all tatted up. Not my cup of tea. The whole lifestyle of those places just turns me off. But I had a good time there that day with Johnny and the girls. I don’t do lap dances or anything. I usually just hand the girl a dollar when she asks me to tip her for her onstage performance. I don’t even stuff it in their top or their bottom. That’s normally what’s offered. I just put the buck in her hand. But Johnny on the other hand, gets lap dances in the back. They are obviously more money. But he has been known to actually get sex from the girls in the back room. Most times he doesn’t pay for that extra perk either. I hear he’s well endowed, so maybe that’s the trick.

So Johnny will pop in occasionally in Phicklephilly. He comes down to center city  every other month. We go to dive bars, drink beer, smoke cigarettes, listen to the jukebox and discuss life. If he gets a good drunk on we may partake in some other activities. I’ll tell you this; Johnny has about 5 different vices. I wouldn’t say he has any addictions. He just loves vice. I enjoy a little vice, but as I get older, I need less. But regardless… I love the guy. I consider Johnny a dear friend.

So next time he’s in town I’ll tell you what sort of deviltry we get into.

 

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

I publish new Dating content every Monday at 9am EST. I publish Updates and bios and stories about related characters, such as male and female friends and acquaintances on Wednesdays at 9am EST.