In the part of the so-called manosphere that I am engaged in writers and commenters typically discuss PUA, game, and love tourism, but occasionally discussions about prostitution and even sexbots and sex dolls occur. Once a man hits a certain age, he might have a hard time finding young and attractive females while not being […]
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.”
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“I’ve always said, free sex always costs more than sex you pay for. The dinners, drinks, birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and other things like little gifts and flowers. That stuff really adds up. Some older men have that kind of disposable income. Maybe they don’t want a wife or a girlfriend. They would rather just pay a flat monthly fee and get what they want, when they want from a younger woman.”
What’s with all of the hookers on Tinder and Clover? There are loads of them. I have swiped right on several women. They are normally between the ages of 18 and 26. I call them hookers because technically that’s what they are. Or is it something worse?
A hooker solicits men for sex. They give a certain dollar amount and she performs a sexual act. You can give it a different name like escort, but that’s the same thing as calling a strip joint a gentleman’s club. Same thing, just more expensive and better looking.
Frankly, I’m surprised at the number of young women on tinder that solicit you for sex. At first you’re all happy that you are engaging a cute younger woman. Your stupid man brain thinks, “Maybe she likes older men, or dug my profile, etc.” But that idiotic notion quickly fades when she wants a relationship that is “mutually beneficial.” That’s when you know that she wants you to give her money and gifts. I’ve spoken to at least a dozen girls on the site, and usually they want around $2000 a month minimum for their services. Sometimes it’s not sex, it’s just dinner, gifts and companionship. A nightmare for me!
Think about that. You could get a part-time job and no one would be the wiser. You could make a nice living that way. Well, there is nothing nice about it I suppose. But what if she gets a few sugar daddies? She could pull down $5000 cash a month or more! That is very lucrative. You probably only have to bang the guy once a week maybe. I don’t know how much action these guys need.
I’ve always said, free sex always costs more than sex you pay for. The dinners, drinks, birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, and other things like little gifts and flowers. That stuff really adds up. Some older men have that kind of disposable income. Maybe they don’t want a wife or a girlfriend. They would rather just pay a flat monthly fee and get what they want, when they want from a younger woman.
I’ve tried dating my age lately and it’s not really working for me. I’m not going to give up on it but younger women are more fun. Have I ever paid for sex? Haven’t we all in some form? Men and women. It’s the oldest vocation in the world. Probably older than farming.
I’ve never went out with any of these hookers on Tinder. Frankly I can’t afford them. Why would I want to be with a girl who doesn’t love me? I’d be just a debtor. Just a guy that has to make his monthly payments or his little plaything goes away. I don’t think this is something new, but they’re basically escorts. Will this affect their psyches later in life, when she’s a mom with kids and a husband? Will she look back on her early twenties when she worked as a whore? There has to be some karmic backlash to this activity. Plus you can’t be a hooker for your whole life. Once your beauty fades your price has to be reduced. It’s just a downward spiral into a dark abyss.
Maybe it’s the fastest easiest way to pay for college for some girls. With the world on social media and this generation obsessed with taking selfies and sending each other pictures of their junk, maybe it’s just easier for this group to have random sex and profit from it.
But somehow that all seems a bit sad to me. I love women. They are an absolute delight to me, and there has to be something else some of these girls could do so that they don’t have to sell their bodies for money.
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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.