So, I’ve purposely not written too much on this because it was just a part of my life (a very important part), but a part I like to very selectively share about. No one wants relationship vomit in their inbox…but today’s the day for a little taste. So if you didn’t know, I got a […]
“So out of everyone, you chose to drive all the way down from Pottstown in the rain to see me?”
“Yes.”
Cherie sends me a text in the morning to ask whether we are still on for brunch at 2pm. I like that she checked in. Normally I do that. So despite the: “Where is that at?” misstep and the fact that she didn’t just google it on her phone, she’s still on track. Bad grammar, bad manners, and lateness are hard points with me. (Thanks, Dad!) I tell her we’re good to go. That was at 12:30.
I get to Square around 1:30 just to have a drink and chat with the bartender. He makes me a drink I invented for the occasion. The Garden Rose. Sauvignon blanc, with a splash of Hendricks gin and as dash of honey on the rocks. Delish. At 1:40 I get a text: “Bad accident on 76. I’ll just be a few minutes late. Sorry.”
No problem. It’s a rainy Saturday, and anything can happen on the interstates in this city. I tell her to be careful driving and thank her for the update.
At 2:12 I get this text: “Trying to park.” I tell her that I am at a quiet table in the back. Brunch is officially over at 2:30 at Square. They switch over to a bar snacks menu while the kitchen preps for dinner. I remember this exact thing happening the last time I brought someone here for brunch. (See: Katsumi – Church Mess)
It’s now almost 2:30 and still no Cherie. I speak to my server and he checks in with the chef and they agree to hold brunch out for me until 2:40. I hate this. From now on, I vow never to schedule a 2pm brunch here ever again. No one can plan anymore, No one can build in that extra half hour into their trip if something goes wrong. Traffic, accident, weather, construction, detours. Build it into your schedule! But I do take it into account, that I leisurely walked about 5 blocks to get here. I don’t even know where she’s coming from. Since she’s driving I assume West Philly, or University City if she was on 76.
At 2:35 she approaches the table. (Whew!) She’s more attractive in person than in her photos. She has on a short close-fitting leather jacket, and an olive skirt and heels. I stand up of course to greet her. We do the quick perfunctory hug. We sit, and she apologizes for being late. All is forgiven. The server arrives and goes over a few things. I tell her we’re cutting it close and we should order. She goes for the grilled salmon salad. I order the breakfast plate. This will be my first real meal of the day.
A banana, a powerbar and some nuts don’t count as breakfast.
She tells me she struggled to find any parking nearby and based on the hour, she put her car in a nearby lot. She says she just drove down from Pottstown. That’s like 45 minutes away! In the rain too.
Again…all is forgiven. I ask her if she wants anything to drink, and she says she’s fine. While waiting for her, the server brought me a little bread with whipped herb butter so I’m good. I have my second drink in front of me. So I’m more than good. We engage in some getting to know you exchange. She was a little shy and quiet at first but then I quickly put her at ease with my witty repartee.
She’s originally from California. Military brat. Lived all over. Her Dad was a career military guy in the Navy. She has an older brother who’s also a Navy guy. His work is classified. He works in military intelligence. She has a younger sister who is two years behind her and is still a bit of a brat. I give her my family stats as well.
Brunch is served and everything looks great. I’m glad she’s impressed. As I said, the food and service here is wonderful. We dive a little deeper into our conversation. She goes to Temple and is majoring in Neuroscience. She’d like to work with children. So she would use her degree to help child neurological disorders. She also works 2 jobs. One at a hospital and the other at a pediatrician’s office. So not only is she getting her degree she’s already working in her field of endeavor.
I’m impressed.
She says she has a 6-year-old son. I do the math in my head. I’m normally not good at math but for some reason when it comes to age of consent numbers I’m lightning. That means she got pregnant at 19 and had her son at 20. She says she never married her son’s father. But they were together for 8 years. She said he was in his thirties when they met. I asked her how a 30 something year old meets a teenage girl. Not that I was fishing for tips.
“Was he driving by the High School one day and it was raining and you missed the bus?”
She laughed and said that she was shooting pool in a bar and so was he. I told her my last two girlfriends were 27 when I started dating them. She asked if I always date younger, and I told her I don’t go after women that age. “It just happens.” Which, for once is not a bold-faced lie. Cherie says she always liked older men. At that moment I am smiling inside because this is perfect. She likes older men, I like younger women. Universe is unfolding!
I ask her what happened to the relationship after 8 years. She said they became complacent. He finally cheated on her, she found out and was done with him. I asked her how long had they been done. She said 2 years. As of this writing I just realized something. If she is now 26 years old and the relationship has been over for 2 years, was she 16 going on 17 when he met her? I can’t think about that right now.
I didn’t ask if he was a white or a black guy. I did ask where her son was right now. She said he was staying with his grandmother.
“Is your Mom watching him?”
She said no, her ex’s mother was watching him. I asked whether the boy’s father was a presence in his son’s life. She said some, but not enough.
That fucker. Children don’t ask to come here. We need to take good care of them. That’s a fact that I am not the slightest bit fickle about.
I asked if he had taken up with another younger woman. She said, that he was in his 40’s now and has a woman his own age in his life. Interesting.
Cherie also told me that she is bisexual. (Noted!)
She said when she was younger and in the clubs, she gravitated more to being with women. But in real life she is firmly ensconced in men. I told her I understood. There’s no black and white/straight or gay in this world. There is a vast grey area in between. Let’s face it, most girls I know are 3 martinis away from kissing another girl.
Just because I’ve installed a few ceiling fans in my life, doesn’t necessarily make me an electrician.
This is all very interesting conversation to me.
We’re getting along really well. We’re chatting, laughing, and I’m happy. I can feel a connection. Out of all of the dates I have been on in the last 6 months, this is by far the best one. I’m not thinking things like: This is going well. She’s a nice woman. She’s age appropriate. This is what I should be doing at my age.
Fuck that. The heart wants what it wants.
I ask her how has her experience been on Tinder. She says she was told about it by a friend, and she decided to check it out. She says she doesn’t do much with social media because she’s too busy and doesn’t care to see what everybody is doing.
Same!
She said at first she didn’t get all of the swiping. I ask her if she has been inundated by matches. She says yes, but she hasn’t been really interested. I ask her how long she’s been on Tinder.
“Two weeks.”
“How many dates have you been on?”
“Just this one.”
“So out of everyone, you chose to drive all the way down from Pottstown in the rain to see me?”
“Yes.”
We’re finished and they clear the plates. The bill comes and I pay it. Okay, for the record, asked her out. This is her first date on Tinder and I’m it. I really like her and she’s in my wheelhouse. I want to pay this time. This is my thing. I like her. I want her. If it works out and we start going out exclusively, you know in a few years she’ll want more kids and it’ll be over. Just like the last 3 relationships I’ve been in. So I’m not getting too worked up about this lady just yet.
Tune in two weeks from now for the amazing conclusion!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday trough Friday at 8am EST.
“She has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?”
I was literally about to begin writing this, and I just got a text from Cherie, so I hope that means something. I’ve responded back with “You must be psychic! I was just thinking about you.” (I was thinking about her because I was just about to write the first half of this very chapter.)
We swiped right on each other on Tinder. Cherie is a 26-year-old attractive, fit, black woman whose zodiac sign is Scorpio. When we first connected I sent her a simple, hello. She got back to me and said she was doing well, but she sitting in a boring class. She’s apparently studying developmental neuroscience. Once the small talk and pleasantries were dismissed, I asked her my standard question. “What prompted you to swipe right on my profile?”
She expressed that she liked the things I wrote in my bio. She said she likes to laugh and dine out, and like me, she’s a good listener. That’s pretty standard fare so far. Everybody likes to laugh and go out to dinner.
I truly hope that she’s a good listener, because I like to talk.
Then she asked me the same question. I told her that she seemed like an intelligent person who wanted to do big things. I really just read her brief profile about her being a neuroscience and psychology major, that had high dreams and aspirations, and spun it back to her in my own words.
I’ve heard from several of the women I’ve spoken to on Tinder that many times when they connect with someone, there is this long period of texting. Sometimes it doesn’t materialize into anything. Since I’ve operated in the real world my whole life, I like to establish things soon, and try to get a meeting. Sound like I’m in sales? I am. Depending on the client you always want to close as soon as possible. Keeps your numbers up and your pipeline full. So I move right in and ask her if she’s like to meet up for a drink sometime.
She thanks me for the compliment and agrees she has big dreams. (I know, I read it on your profile.) She says that having a drink with me sounds like a great idea. That was fast. My next response was positive affirmation and my cell number. She says she’ll send me a text.
Now, that looks like it happened very quickly but it actually didn’t. I was living my life all day, and she was probably in and out of classes and whatever else. That brief and pointed exchange began at 9:45am and ended at 3:30pm. Five and a half hours later! Now I just had to wait to see if she was going to text me.
Within moments she did. We continued our conversation off Tinder. She went on to tell me that she works as a medical assistant at a hospital, and also works at a pediatric office! 2 jobs and school? Wow! I tell her briefly my stuff, and she goes on to say that she loves her jobs because she gets to help people, but they can be stressful. I then hit her with how I get my energy from people and enjoy bringing people together personally and professionally. She likes that, and reveals that she’s a shy person at first but then she opens up after a bit.
I try to get her out for a Wednesday night drink.
I don’t hear from her for the rest of the day. She finally gets back to me and apologizes for the silence. She had a very long day with school and work. She re-affirms that she’d like to meet me for a drink, but she works late on Wednesdays but the weekend is probably better. I tell her I’m free Saturday. She’s available in the afternoon. I lock it down for 2pm Saturday. I tell her I’ll pick the spot. She thinks that sounds great.
That was early in the week. A lot can happen in 5 days. So I ping her Wednesday just to keep the current going. We participate in some light banter about the weather and our days events.
I ask another one of my standards: “What do you like to do when you’re not working or studying?” She likes movies, dining out and dancing, etc. I tell her I’m a former musician and not much of a dancer, but love movies and dining out too. I want to know what kind of movies she likes because that would be a splendid second date.
She likes scary movies and thrillers. I tell her I like the same. (I actually like a myriad of film genres but for this exchange, liking the same thing she likes works) I follow with “Let’s go to the movies together soon!” See what I did there? I’m actually setting up a second date with a woman I haven’t even met for the first time yet. I’m reading her responses. She’s smart. I don’t ask or suggest, I simply say: “Let’s go see a movie together soon.” She responds with, “That sounds like a great idea. Notice how she uses the word “Sounds?” She is a good listener like she said. It reminds me of a thing that my ex-girlfriend Michelle does when I talk to her. She stays attentive to what I’m saying and usually mirrors my words back to me in affirmation. I like that Cherie is doing the same thing. Michelle does that all the time. (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) I love Michelle for that. and she doesn’t even know about her gift. (Ordoes she?)
Cherie says she hasn’t seen too many commercials for scary movies lately. I tell her I’ll look into it. She responds that she thinks that’s nice. I like her manners already. I just hope that if I take her to a scary movie she doesn’t start yelling things like: “Don’t go in there!” or “Get out the house, fool!”
I’m going to go ahead and apologize to everyone reading this in advance for that last bit.
It’s getting late. As a gentle reminder, I tell her she seems really cool, and that I’m really looking forward to meeting her on Saturday.
Crickets.
But at 7:30 the next morning I get a mirrored response. “Good Morning. Thanks you seem cool as well. I’m looking forward to meeting you.” I simply respond with a smiley face. Which brings us back to tonight when I began this chapter. As I finish this part she has responded. “Lol, I highly doubt I’m psychic but thanks. It’s a busy but productive day as well.”
The date is supposed to happen on Saturday. We’re supposed to meet for a drink. It’s Thursday and there is some small talk texts leading up to it. I want to keep the embers glowing until we meet. We chat about our days, and what shows we’re watching. I ask her if she is a beer, wine or a cocktail girl. This way I can gauge where we should meet. She says she’s a beer girl. Then she says she doesn’t really like alcohol and then says: “What about you?” I tell her I enjoy an occasional drink socially. (A bold-faced lie) I ask her if she’d rather meet for brunch instead of a drink on Saturday.
She chooses brunch. I ask her if she has any dietary concerns. She says no, but she is a really unhealthy but picky eater, and thanks me for asking and do I have any. I tell her I can eat anything. So I ask her if she has any preferences. She loves seafood and breakfast food. That sounds perfectly fine to me. I thought of several places I could take her, but went with my go to: Square 1682. The staff knows me. The food’s great, and the service is on point. She can have seafood or breakfast food and so can I.
Friday I text her a “Happy Friday” meme around 5pm. I tell her I look forward to meeting her at Square 1682 for brunch Saturday at 2pm.
She replies: “Where is that at?” I wanted to reply: “I keep forgetting that I am the only one on Earth with iPhone technology because I came from the future, and I also don’t end my sentences with prepositions!” Of course I don’t.
But I do say: “Here, let me google that for you.” And send her a screenshot of Square 1682’s webpage from my phone. She thanks me like nothing happened, because to her, technically nothing did. She closes with: “I’m looking forward to meeting you too.” (Redeemed)
So far just texting her, I like this chick. I’m really looking forward to meeting her Saturday. She seems really sweet. I just pray that she isn’t just meeting with me for free food and drinks. I mean, that could happen. It’s happened before. She is a student. But she has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
Yesterday we left off here:
She shows me her profile on OKCupid, another dating site. She wants me to read her profile. It’s actually really good, it shows a smart, confident, independent woman. I like that. “That’s why men are intimidated by me.”
“I can imagine. But I dig a confident woman. Especially one as pretty as you.” The picture she has posted of herself is spectacular. She looks like a gorgeous woman in her forties. I notice the age posted on the profile says she’s fifty-six. I point to this and she laughs and says, “That’s my OkCupid age.” I laugh and get it. She looks great and ratcheted back her age five years. “I’m really impressed with that pic of you, Clarice.”
“Cause my tits look so good?”
“Umm… well, yes, but…”
“That’s pretty much all I got to offer. I got no ass! I got skinny bird legs!”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I say, smiling slyly.
Here’s the great thing about dating older women. They are over all of their body issues. They don’t give a shit about all of the nonsense that clogs the heads of younger women. like her profile says: “I know what I can, and cannot do.”
We’re slowly munching through the tacos. She seems to like them. I order another Tecate. She starts looking at the wine list. (Here we fuckin’ go…) I can’t MAKE her drink tequila if she doesn’t like it. I tell her it’s okay to have a glass of wine. (I know! There goes ten bucks!)
She asks me about my artistic background. I tell her about my art and musical background. (I don’t want to epand on that here. That’s for future posts) She asks if I do anything artistic now. I tell her I do some writing.
“Has anyone seen it?” she says.
“No.”
“You should write a blog.”
“Really?”
“Sure! You know about all of these things around the city. What to drink, where to go, and what to do. It would be really interesting. You could even write a blog about dating. I’m sure it would be fun to read!”
“Do you really think so?”
“You should look into it.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about blogging.”
(Oh, the irony!)
Time goes by and she’s getting a buzz on. She starts getting a little affectionate. I ask her if this okay with her PDA rule in place. Apparently it is, because she kisses me again. She’s canoodling around my ear and neck. “Oooh you smell good!” (She’s into me. It’s so on.) “What is that you’re wearing? It smells sooo good!” I tell her I forget what fragrance I grabbed out of the vanity this morning. Maybe Aqua di Gio, by Giorgio Armani I tell her. (Bold faced lie. It’s Axe body spray, Phoenix)
She kisses me again. “Don’t you ever use tongue?” she hisses. “I do…” I look into her eyes, and then at her mouth and then look downward, then back to her eyes, just so we’re clear. I tell her when I kissed her at the Ritz on Saturday she seemed a little tight-lipped. She says she was right there ready for anything. Got a live one here. Maybe it was the tequila talking. Clarice has no idea who she’s dealing with here. Like a baby seal hopping into the water to cool off, just as the grey dorsal fin cuts through the water heading right for her. She kisses me again. Now her lips feel softer and more passionate than Saturday. I can tell the difference. She’s been thinking about me.
She orders another margarita. (Thank you!) I’m feeling good and into my third Tecate. It’s nearly seven. Need to wrap this up soon. I promised Church I’d meet him at Sofitel. She starts talking about the Comcast Holiday show they do on the digital wall in the lobby of the Comcast tower. She asks me if I’ve ever seen it. I told her I saw it a couple of years ago. (Probably with Michelle and her mom.) She says we should go see it. I tell her I think it’s over by now. She looks it up in her phone. It was over the day after New Years Day.
“Aww too bad, I thought we could go see it after this. See? I’m trying to think of free things we can do together!” (points for that)
I apologize that we missed it, and also tell her I have to go meet with Church after this. He has some important stuff to cover with me.
“Oh…You’re always fitting me in! On our first date at Panorama you had to leave.”
“I had our annual holiday toy drive at Time for the kids at CHOP!”
“On New Years Eve you had to leave me again!”
“I promised my friend Carly weeks ago that I would help her set up a New Years wedding party!”
“Now you’re fitting me in around your friend!”
“He’s having some domestic issues, and my friend needs my support. We set this meeting up a before I made this date with you.”
“Oh…okay. I’m sorry.”
“No worries. I really like you Clarise. I want to see you, but I’ve had a lot of things going on over the holidays. I know now that they’re over, it should free up some time for us to be together.”
“My birthday is coming up, you know. I’ll be sixty-two on January 15th. Martin Luther King’s actual birthday, not the day we celebrate it. Do you have to work that day? It’s a Sunday.”
“Normally I do.”
“Well, here’s what I think you should do; switch with someone. Get on the train. Come out to Upper Darby around 1pm and I’ll pick you up and bring you to my house. You can stay until whenever you have to leave.”
“That would be great. I’ll see what I can do.”
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Clarice is making it clear she wants me to come over and make love to her. Which I am prepared to do. I like Clarice, and I want her.
The check comes. She had two margaritas, one glass of wine, and three tacos. So technically, not including tip, she will have only cost me twenty-three dollars tonight. Please don’t think I’m cheap, dear reader. If you have been reading this blog, you’ll know that I have spent thousands of dollars wining and dining all of these women.
We walk outside and she takes my arm. I walk her to her subway stop. I walk her down to the first landing and kiss her. She’s surprised and pleased. I offer her what I did not before in a kiss. She smiles and kisses me back.
I hear the roar of the approaching train. Time to go.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
After our New Years Eve date, and the date the next day with Mary, I started thinking about my money. I’m approaching this correctly, but operating at this level has a price. Limited time and resources. But when you have a solid pool of candidates, it puts you in a position of power. I’ve begun to realize this as I make this journey. Valerie was my maiden voyage. I was in the mindset, that if I didn’t feel something deep, I couldn’t go forward with her. She was simply an expense, and there was no return on my investment. June, was fun, but I simply wasn’t attracted to her. Fair enough. If one or two fall off, there are always others waiting in line to get onboard. But I really like Mary. She’s cool and fun, and had great history. I’m attracted to her. Same with Clarice. I want her, but I can’t be dropping a load of cash every time I see her.
There are always a few out there circling now. That’s good. That gives me the advantage. The other big advantage here is that I’m younger than both of these women. Normally I’m the old guy dating the younger women. I have real value, but youth is king. An older man will always be beholden to a younger woman due to her obvious youth and beauty. But if the tables were turned, it now puts me in the position to call the shots. What if I simply tell Clarice that I really like her and love spending time with her, but I can’t drop that much coin on her anymore? What’s the worst thing that could happen? The older woman leaves me because I’m not buying her enough drinks and dinners? Fine. She’s a gold digger and always was a gold digger. What do I get from her leaving me? One less expense that’s not yielding me any return on investment.
Mary has been pretty good with paying dutch on some things, so the issue is not with her. It’s with Clarice, and I’m about to solve it.
I told Clarice I was available on Wednesday evening and would like to see her. She agreed. Clarice texted me the night before and asked me what we were doing. The reason I hadn’t locked it down was because at the time I was struggling with how I was going to solve this situation.
I decided to simply call her. Just talk to her the old fashion way. She answers the phone: “To whom do I owe this great honor?” I find that endearing because I say that when I answer the phone when somebody I like is calling me. She wants to know what we’re doing. I flat-out tell her that I really like her, and want to spend time with her, but I can’t spend fifty to a hundred dollars every time I see her. She says she agrees, and says I need to be more creative. I like that answer and it’s not a farewell. She suggests she just come to my apartment. (I find that a bit forward and a veiled suggestion for sex) I tell her Lorelei lives with me and I can’t be dragging strange women through the house with my kid there. I can tell this caught her off guard. She was married thirty years ago, but the marriage yielded no children. So she never thinks about kids. I also mention that if she likes, she could kick in on the bill occasionally. She says that since she just spent a bunch of money on a load of food for a holiday party she recently threw, that’s not happening.
Which tells me some things, about our confident, empowered, CEO. Good looking lady. Former opera singer. (No money in the arts) Runs a company (or maybe just works for a company) that sells marketing materials to companies for promoting their brand. She’s the CEO of a company that does marketing for non profits. (Non profits have no money to spend) It sounds like a company she made up which makes her the CEO. Just like my friend Alice is the CEO of her company. She revealed that she is looking to get a job with the African-American Museum here in the city. (She’s looking for a job!) Hot lady has no money!
So even though she is eight years older than me, this further lowers her value. But… she is charming, beautiful and fit. I am attracted to her, and I will use all of this to my advantage without doing anything dramatic. I will simply be myself and change the game.
I was seeing a client down at 12th and Locust, (It’s a gay bar) and when I walk out at 4:15 I hear someone calling my name. I look around and don’t see anyone I know. Then I see a familiar car parked right there. It’s Church!
“What are you doing down here?” I say.
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
“I’m seeing Jay at the club to pitch him my new bar leadership program.”
“Or you’re hanging out in a gay bar!” he quips.
“Yea, and you’re parked in your car out front of that gay bar cruisin’ for dudes.”
“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride, sailor.”
I told Clarice to meet me at El Rey, at 20th & Chestnut at 4:45. It’s best to get there before 5pm because the happy hour fill up because it’s so awesome. Dollar tacos, two dollar Tecate, and five dollar margaritas. How’s that for getting creative?
We’re parked out front of El Rey, and I see Clarice walking towards the bar. “Okay, this is my five o’clock appointment, dude. Thanks for the ride. I’ll meet up with you at Sofitel after seven.”
I wait for her to go in, and Church doesn’t ask who I’m meeting with so I don’t mention it. I head in and she’s at the bar taking off her coat. I stride towards her and nearly call her by her blog name by accident! We hug, and squeeze ourselves into the seats at the bar. It’s a little tight. This used to be the old Midtown Diner III. They kept the affixed seats and the counter when they remodeled the place into El Rey.
I explain the happy hour to her and after a few tries she gets it. She goes with the margarita, no ice. I grab a Tecate. She gets the drink and doesn’t like it. They served it on the rocks which is wrong. She says the drink is super tart. She is making dramatic faces to prove it. I’m finding it annoying. Former opera singer/actress drama. Too much. She grabs the bartender and he fixes the drink. No rocks, and I tell him to add a little more triple sec to lower the tart signature.
Clarice says she’s not a tequila fan, but she’s trying to keep with the “Dating on a budget” program that I am now enforcing. I like that. We order six tacos. So right now the bill would be thirteen bucks. I can live with that. (for now!)
We are chatting and I’m making her laugh as usual. She is beautiful. I ask her how her last date went. She said she cancelled it. Just wasn’t feeling it. I knew it. Once you’ve heard Led Zeppelin, you don’t want to listen to any other crappy bands. She tells me more about her ex husband, and some other guy she dated for five years. I’m feigning interest as usual. It seems to be working.
She shows me her profile on OKCupid, another dating site. She wants me to read her profile. It’s actually really good, it shows a smart, confident, independent woman. I like that. “That’s why men are intimidated by me.”
“I can imagine. But I dig a confident woman. Especially one as pretty as you.” The picture she has posted of herself is spectacular. She looks like a gorgeous woman in her forties. I notice the age posted on the profile says she’s fifty-six. I point to this and she laughs and says, “That’s my OkCupid age.” I laugh and get it. She looks great and ratcheted back her age five years. “I’m really impressed with that pic of you, Clarice.”
“Cause my tits look so good?”
Read the thrilling conclusion to this story tommorow! Where we’ll answer questions like: Will our hero win the heart of the girl before he runs out of money? Do her tits really look that good?
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.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
I met Eliana on Tinder. She is a very cute Filipino girl. Pretty, early thirties, fine boned with lovely slender legs. But she is very busty. That is rare for women of Asian origin. But if you ask her she will say she is Pacific Rim, not Asian.
We chatted for a bit on Tinder and then we decided to meet. She is a chef, so she works a lot of odd hours. We tried to figure it out between our schedules, but it was a struggle. She seemed nice and ready to date. I liked her.
She met her husband when he was in the military. He clipped her young and married her. He is of Austrian origin. Western European. He probably wanted her because she was sexy, exotic and young. She has a son who works as a flight attendant (probably gay) and a daughter who works in pharmaceuticals. I’ve seen pictures and her son is a nice looking boy and her daughter is smoking hot. Filipino and Austrian makes very good-looking girls.
They made those kids right away so it must have meant that the sex was fire. She cracked them off a year apart. They were married for a while. Her son lives with her out in Westchester. Her daughter is in college in California. She said her ex-husband is an asshole that eventually became verbally abusive. Eliana seems very sweet so I figure it’s his personality flaw not hers. Normally that is the case. Probably a military narcissist and she eventually became not good enough for him. They lived in Florida back then. The daughter is the little princess in dad’s eyes and can do no wrong. Eliana describes her as the spoiled brat. Dad probably loves her because she looks more like his side of the family. The son doesn’t like his father and says he’s an asshole just like mom. I figure military dad doesn’t like his son because he think’s a gay kid couldn’t have come from him and it’s mom’s fault. (Just speculating)
We scheduled a date to meet for lunch in the city. She has a brilliant car. it’s a Chevy Volt. Mad technology. But she’s afraid to drive into the city. She doesn’t know the city well and she says she’s not good at parallel parking. Typical Asian chick. (Sorry) We made a date and then I bailed because I had a cold. I was sniffing and sneezing and mostly coughing all of October 2016. She didn’t like that but I stayed in touch with her because she seemed nice. She was patient and forgiving, and understood.
We were supposed to meet up again. It was a Thursday. My partner Achilles at the salon got sick and asked if I would run the salon from 10am to 8pm. That’s a long day but I don’t mind it. It’s a fun job and I get to chat with the ladies and write this blog. So I had to bail again.
I could tell she was perturbed and my credibility was slipping. She had been in a shitty marriage, then she dated a guy for a few years and he was crap too. Apparently he was verbally abusive too. Her son is very protective of his mother. He always advises her on these losers. But he told her she needed to get out there and date again. I haven’t met him but I like this kid.
His mom is hot and she needs to meet a nice man.
So finally I make another date with her. Some time had passed and I didn’t know if she would be still interested. But she was and I begged her to meet me again in Philly again. She told me her son had told her to take the train. He knows she’s not good with navigating center city and the whole parking thing. That’s a challenge for anybody I know coming into the city. Finding a spot is hell and the parking authority is a vicious bunch of robbers. I swear they must be paid some sort of commission for ticketing cars because I have never met a more motivated team of employees that will run down every expired car in the city to write them a ticket. Who would want to do that job? “How was your day, honey?” “Good. I hurt every person I touched.”
She agreed to meet me and I told her to come to Racheal’s my favorite breakfast spot. It was afternoon but they make deadly sandwiches and I figured it would be quiet spot we could chat. The owner and staff know me so it would be a safe haven.
She parks in a lot and arrives on time. I wasn’t even there. Apparently she can get down here in 30 minutes. Good to know. Normally I am at the spot waiting for the girl but she is there wondering where I am. I’m sure she is already apprehensive because I ditched two times before.
I scamper from my apartment and head through Rittenhouse Square. I get there and she is there waiting for me. She is wearing a long coat, but she is wearing a light dress. We meet and she is sweet and beautiful. She looks like her pics, which are very close to the stock photo I have posted here.
She says since she is from the Philippines and lived in Florida so she owns a lot of light clothing. I ask her if she’s cold and she says no. Her ample bosom is very visible and I assume she is sending me a message. Her breasts are beautiful and she is really showing them off. Her dress is low-cut and they are very visible, which is distracting but lovely. I’m a leg man but they are tantalizing.
She is wearing boots but I can see that her legs are well turned and nice. She looks good. She seems really comfortable with her body and her sexuality. That could work.
I ask her if she wants anything to eat and she says no. I suggest we walk in the park. Rittenhouse is beautiful this time of year. The crews are busy putting up all of the Christmas lights and the tree. We walk through the park and chat. We get to know each other. I like her. There is something about her that gives me a sexual charge. Most women I meet don’t do that for me. But this one has a certain something. I can’t tell what it is. It’s not that I can’t tell, I just don’t know why I want her that way. She just exudes a certain sexuality. Maybe that’s what pulled her husband in. I totally get why he fell for her, because she has that thing.
She is distant a little bit. She talks and is social but keeps her physical distance from me. I find that confounding but I like it. It makes me want to reach for her more. We walk the park and get to know each other. She thinks I’m not that into her but I am. She says things like, “You want to run away from me but I don’t.”
Sounds like rejection and esteem issues. Dismantle it before it’s begun. (Red Flag)
I think this is a sweet woman who has been hurt by a few losers and is gun-shy. Being around her I get a good vibe. I think she is very sexual. I have dated a lot on this odyssey and many of the women I have met give off a zero sexuality vibe. That’s probably why they are alone. Eliana has just chosen to lock herself away to protect her heart for a while. I may have the key to that lock.
Like any good sword fight in the park there is always a good thrust and parry, as my father would say, and I can feel there’s chemistry.
It’s windy and cold. The leaves dance around our feet in Rittenhouse Square. My island girl doesn’t like the cold but says she is always warm. But the December day is taking her. I pull her close and kiss her. She pecks me back. I know she wants more but she’s guarded. That’s okay. I’m a very patient man.
We head back to Rachael’s. They must think I’m a gigalo. But I love that place and they are good at keeping my secrets. It’s warm in there and we sit at a table in the back. We look at the menu and decide to get some food. They won’t come to the table, you have to go to the counter. She wants the ham sandwich, I go with the roast beef. She asks what the difference is between imported ham and domestic ham. The chef says the imported ham is more expensive but he doesn’t know where it’s imported from. I find this annoying but at the same time I want to know the answer. I vow to find out what the difference is. I know domestic is round and imported is rectangle but that’s all. It’s really funny. No one in my life has ever asked that question. But someone should have.
While I was ordering she was rubbing my back. It was distracting but I know this babe is electric and likes me.
We eat our sandwiches and they are terrific. Normally Rachael’s is my Saturday breakfast go to but these sandwiches are slamming. She is happy and grateful. I like her and she turns me on. It took awhile but we finally met. Many of the women I have met on the dating scene are incredible bores but she’s fun and sexy.
I walk her to her car and we sit in the vehicle for a moment to warm up. We kiss. I kiss her again. I can tell she is holding back to protect her heart. But I kissed her more and she became a little more passionate.
Eliana is a great lady. She is a hard-working self-made woman I respect. I want to see her again.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at 9am EST.
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…
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.
