Sabrina – Good Morning

Sweet, lovely Sabrina text me this morning. It was a simple, “Good Morning.”

“Hi Sabrina!”

“Did I wake you? I need some positivity this morning.”

“No. What’s up, dear?”

“Just stressed about my job. The boss is never happy. I’m stressed about my ex. He’s pushing me to do things before I want to do them. I just feel like shit.”

“Can you meet for lunch today?”

Yes, I’m sure I can. What time and where?”

I had to work at the salon later, so I suggested noon at Locust Rendezvous. But she wanted to do a little later and not a bar that looks like a tavern. More of a lunch spot. (I should have realized this, based on her past with addiction and recovery.) I just wanted the $5 burger they have there. I secede and suggest Rachael’s at 12:30. She likes that idea much better. Racheal’s is my weekend breakfast spot. I love the food and the prices.

I get there and she appears shortly thereafter. She looks lovely as ever. We go up to the counter and order then return to our table. The place is quiet and this is the first time we’ve ever met outside of the salon. Technically our first date if that’s what this is.

Am I attracted to Sabrina? Of course. Do I care that she’s used heroin for 7 years and has been clean 8 months? No. I want her to be well and live a happy sober life. Do I care that she lived in a halfway house with Jill because she had to be sent there? Nope. She’s a nice lady that had a shitty marriage and got addicted to drugs. But she’s clean now and I like being around her. If I get bored or annoyed with her I’ll cool it. I’ve written about all of the crazy women that I used to hang out with and date in this forum. I only surround myself with good people now. I’ve cut off all of those people and I’m much happier and more calm for it. Jill, Kaja and Sabrina are all nice women that just made some bad choices, but I believe it’s never too late to change for the better. When I was with the crazies they were still in crazy mode. These good women have come out on the other side and hopefully for good.

At this point in my life I like spending time with people who are calm and nice. No more drama. I’ve had enough for two lifetimes. So many of the people who now live in the past and out of my head are just shitty people. I blame their lifestyle choices and their parents. I also love to work and my alone time, so I dig a lunch or a happy hour but beyond that…see ya!

Sabrina and I have a wonderful lunch. We’re chatting for the first time outside of the salon and we can really get to know each other. She’s telling me about her life and what’s been happening, but I don’t need all the details. We just glide across the surface. Marriage, divorce, kids, work. Just first date stuff for people who have ‘seen some things.’ Normally you should never talk about any of your ex’s on a first date, but I discover that she’s still married to her husband. I don’t care. They’re separated so they can date if that’s what they’ve agreed. Not my concern. She’s living in the house and he’s moved out. She’s gotten out of the halfway house because I’m assuming she did her time and stayed clean. Her husband is a contractor and she was a stay at home mom for 12 years. Oh, she has two kids. They live with Dad and she gets to see them on Saturdays. From what she’s told me he sounds like he’s being a dick, slacking on the house payments and utilities, and saying he doesn’t have any money. But Sabrina has access to all of the accounts. He’s not good at any of that, so she still has all the passwords. She can see that he’s spending hundreds of dollars out at the bars. So it’s all a pretty typical divorce mess.

In the State of Pennsylvania, if she stayed home for all of her twenties (She’s 32) The court will have to take that into account. He was the sole breadwinner while she had to forgo her career to raise the kids so dad is going to have to pay her alimony. So that’s good for her. He’ll also have to cash her out on the house, and divide up the assets. So it would really benefit her to begin divorce proceedings.

Recently the company she works for have cut the hours of some of the staff. Because some of their outdoor bars and beer gardens have closed for the season. This and her husband are really stressing her out. I’m afraid if she gets really stressed she could use again and then she’s back in a drug fueled world of shit.

“What are you looking to do?”

“I was thinking I could maybe get a job as a server.”

She knows that I have the hook up with a lot of the bars and restaurants around the city. She also knows that I’ve helped people get jobs. So she asks for my help.

“What are you doing tomorrow, Sabrina?”

“What are you thinking?” She smiles.

“I get my business cards for all of the bars and restaurants in the city. We get lunch at Misconduct. Then we go through the cards and I reach out to places we think are appropriate for you to work as a server.”

“I love Misconduct! I’ve only been there once! Yes! If you could do that and help me that would be wonderful!”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you!”

The sandwiches they served us were enormous. Delicious and fresh, but gigantic. I guess the average person that goes there and orders a sandwich wants to stuff their head with a king sized wad of meat. I want a sandwich like the ones my mom used to make. Something that has reasonable portions and I can get my mouth around to bite it. Not rip into a pile of meat like a jackal. I see that she could only eat half of her hot Rueben and I’m in the same situation with my roast beef. There is a half a sandwich left and it’s as big as one sandwich. I grab us a couple of to-go shells and we put our sandwiches in them and head out.

We walk east on Sansom and we’re chatting and come upon a homeless woman lying on a piece of cardboard on the sidewalk.

I bend down. “Would you like this fresh sandwich? It’s really good.”

The poor woman turns on her side and starts opening the container. “Thank you.”

We continue walking down the street.

“You’re my kind of guy.”

“That’s a woman lying in the street. I had to do it.”

“I could cry. I can feel my heart.”

We agree again on tomorrow and I tell her to take a deep breath and just know it will all work out. She hugs me and thanks me for everything.

I watch as she walks north on 18th street and admired her beauty. Wow. First date. She reached out to me and made it happen. Got to know each other and good energy flowed. Second date is tomorrow and maybe I can help her find a part-time job. Fed a homeless person and impressed her.

Sometimes all it takes to get the ball rolling are the words:

“Good Morning.”

 

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Cherie – Chapter 50 – …Than to Receive – Part 3

Baby fell asleep after our fiery session. I’m a giver. I’ve always been since I was nineteen in LA.

NO. I’ve always been a giver and a pleaser since I was a kid. when you grow up feeling like a loser and an inferior shit… you always give. You are a twisted pile of insensitive parenting and you are your own weakness.

You’ll always please and give to everybody you know when you’re broken as a person. I’ve always been that person. The pleaser. The giver. Obsessed with giving.

I remember when my father would say to me “Don’t be a victim.” The crazy irony is that his very behavior in how he treated me made me into the victim I have been my entire life. He gave me great lessons and taught me so much about life and I’m grateful for that. But his rage and behavior towards me over the years destroyed any self-esteem I could have ever cultivated to be the leader I could have been.

He would be pissed at my mom for her sexless stoic attitude and I would fail at school and he would rip me a new one instead of her. But I was just the fuse. The powder keg was him and she was the bomb.

He was the torch and she was the can of gas. They were a complete mismatch. The most terrifying moments in my life were at my father’s hands and words. He knew he could destroy a person with his tongue.

He took shameful pride in it.

His own mother. My Grammie. I loved her. She was an orphan that was given up because the family was too poor to keep her (More later) she once described her son… my father… as,  “The cow that gives the milk and then kicks the bucket over.”

I’m a middle-aged hyper-sexual. I’m like no one you know. Unless you’re best buds with David Duchovney. The needle on my sex drive has been cranked way back, but the demon still lives in there, but he’s cool.

I used to say that I was at war with my demons. But now we’re all on the same side.

Anxiety? Settle the fuck down. Depression? Oh, for fuck’s sake go out and do something!

How bad is my life?

Daughter Lorelei lives with me, I love her dearly and she’s turned out right. I’m writing these words and lovely Cherie’s is turning in my bed naked and beautiful while I take a break from the action to write this.

I love to see her sleep. I know her life is hard and I admire her mettle to go forth and succeed at 27. I also admire her love for me at my age. When she comes to my place in Rittenhouse  she can completely hide from the world. No work. No school. No kids. Just love, warmth romance and lots of mad sex.

Tomorrow we’re going to sleep in and have a delicious breakfast of whatever baby wants.

We’ll probably hit Midtown Diner because that’s where we started.

She’ll vanish on a train again and I’ll go back to work, errands and friends.

I need to maintain my relationship with Cherie. Because despite our differences and distance, I look at Cherie and see one word.

WIFE.

Okay, I know that seems scary and Lorelei would lose her shit but this lady seems that good.

Only time will tell…

 

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Cherie – Chapter 49 – Better to Give… Part 2

I draw the blue translucent curtains shut. Because tonight will carry us both into tomorrow.

I’ve lived a charmed life. It’s been good. I’ve had opportunity because of my skin, intelligence and wit. I’ve succeeded because of my dedication and hard work. I’m an overachiever.  A relentless sales guy that gets off on the kill. But I have natural ability in everything I do. You either kill it or get lazy the first chance you get because everything once you get it comes so easy to you because of your deadly abilities.

You only have that power because of your wiring and your upbringing. If you beat down a bright sensitive, odd child he will either become a CEO, a serial killer, or an artist. I’m sure there are a few other characters in there but I think you get it. (I’m the artist!)

That’s me. Here I am in my bed with a beautiful young woman again. It’s like I keep getting free passes from God to just keep going on the fun ride again and again! I don’t really know why. No one else I know gets these sort of splendors.

But fortune favors the bold.

And this frightened, anxiety ridden mess has run from his fears but then paused. I turned and slowly walked towards them and conquered them all. Without drugs. The drugs just fuck you up more. Surround yourself with good people and march forward toward your fears.

 

Cherie tells me we’ve talked enough but she wants to be naked.  She’s wearing the classic criss cross black body suit without a bra. (See: Cherie – Chapter 4 – Ribbons) Hot as shit. I love seeing the swing and curve over her breasts through that mesh top. She’s telling me some story about her and her sister in a store where they’re laughing and I reach my fingers through that criss cross lace.

She pauses and closes her eyes. I feel the soft supple swell of her breast. I go just a bit further and greet her stiffened nipple between my index and middle finger.

“Go on with your story.”

“I forget.” (smiles) “Wait I remember!”

I withdraw my hand but hold her close.

“My sister always threatens me that she’s going to steal my car and take it out.”

“What do you do?”

“I tell her that if she ever fucking takes my keys and steals my Saab I will call 911.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“Yea. I tell her that I will tell the cops that a black woman has stolen my Saab and I am a white woman and she has a gun!”

“Are you trying to get your sister killed?’

“No, Silly! It’s just a bit we do between each other because we know that’s how it is in this country. They’d pop a cap in my sister’s ass and kill her if that ever happened.”

Cherie giggles. I love comedy. Especially edgy next level borderline comedy, but there’s a dark truth in her humor.

“Well I’m tired of talking to you and I want to get naked.”

“No complaints here, dear.”

“But I’ve been at the hospital and school all day so I’m going to rinse off.”

“Okay bayba.”

Cherie gets up, kicks off her boots and pulls down her jeans.  Now she’s down to the one piece criss cross delish and a pair of purple panties.

She’s looking gorgeous and I can’t resist. I leap from the bed and go to her. We kiss and I hold her in my arms. I reach between her brown thighs and curl my finger between the two snaps holding the body suit together at the crotch.

I reach behind her because I don’t want to rip her little garment. I love this outfit. I have to be careful. I hold the back of the outfit that is basically a thong that is a cotton bridge between her delicious ass cheeks.

Cherie has a glorious but proportionate posterior. Not Kardashian, but athletic standard black girl butt.

It’s lovely.

I kiss her. She kisses me back. We miss each other. I’m happy and feel her love and heat in my arms. Out of everyone in the world, this is my girlfriend. I can’t believe at my age I’m still able to get a girlfriend half my age this pretty.

Well I kinda do.

Apparently, game goes a long way, baby.

“Can you close the drapes? Because you’re about to strip me naked.”

“Oh course my dear.”

I draw the blue translucent curtains shut. Because tonight will carry us both into tomorrow.

I hold my love close and the snaps at the bottom of her outfit yield to my force and open with the sound that is their name.

I gently pull the body suit over her body and from her head. (You never want to mess up a black woman’s hair…EVER)

Now she’s nude in front of me and I turn her around to the full length mirror in the corner of my bedroom. Given to me by former girlfriend, Michelle! (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day)

I’m still fully dressed but Cherie is completely nude and vulnerable. I like the idea that she can see herself in the mirror and I’m behind her. Clutching her breasts and kissing her neck. My right hand leaves her firm breast and caresses her belly down to the moist junction between her lovely thighs.

I touch her there and she jumps. Her softest spot and her most durable. I remove my hand and continue to kiss her neck.

“I’ve been at school and at the hospital all day. I need to rinse off.”

I regain some composure. I have to. I know what’s about to happen in the next 30 minutes.

I release my lady.

 

Living here on a weekly basis with my daughter Lorelei, it almost seems alien being alone here with a beautiful young woman and making mad love to her when she gets here.

Lorelei is great with telling me when she’ll be here and when she won’t. She’s off at Electric Halloween with her boyfriend this weekend. But she ALWAYS tells me when she’ll be rolling in and out of here. I love that because I never have to worry she’ll come upon some sort of “We were just working out doing nude yoga together in my bedroom scenario.”

Cherie heads to the shower.

 

Later, Cherie gets to her knees and is digging through her bag for whatever sundries she needs for this delayed mission. I’m standing next to her and I am lit up with blood lust.

This is how cool Cherie is: She is digging through her bag looking for her skin cream for after her shower and she gently places her hand on my crotch. It’s obvious I’m chubbing and firing up the Millennium Falcon to go, but that hand is an immediate soothe.

“I feel you… I’ll be right back, honey.”

Cherie hops in the shower. (I would have done love dirty. I don’t care) I’m pacing the bedroom like the cat that I am and putting on ‘ Music for Lovers’ on Pandora. (Hey I know it’s cheese but I like the stuff they play on there. Check it out!)

She comes out of the bathroom and gets in the bed and hops under the covers.

“I’m chilly!”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I love you honey.”

“I love you too…Guess what?”

“What, dear?”

“Take me…Now.”

 

I’m going to leave it to the beloved band Queen to describe the events of our night together.

 

 

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Cherie – Chapter 48 – Better to Give… Part 1

I’m in Awe…

Baby is determined to try to get down here this weekend. I think she’s shooting for Friday night when I finish at the salon. She says she has to go back around 11am or noon on Saturday, which is choice. Because that gives me time with her Friday night into Saturday for some greatest hits. I like this, because once she goes I’m off for the rest of the day from everything.

My daughter tells me we need paper towels for the kitchen. I’m a little curious about this because my vegan daughter Lorelei now owns my kitchen and uses all of the paper towels. I never touch a single one. But as a child who is nearly twenty-one she thinks all household stuff is paid for by parents.

I love her and I’m fine with it. I’m happy she’s my daughter.

I go to Walgreen’s and pick up two rolls of paper towels, a can of Axe body spray, (Phoenix. You’re welcome Axe or… I’m sorry Axe) A bag of kettle corn, (Cravings lately. Unexplained. Just love that stuff. It’ll pass.) condoms and a pack of cigs.

As I approach the counter I hope the cashier doesn’t put some sort of story together based on my purchases today…

Oh, this guy needs Axe body spray to attract a mate, and then he’s buying condoms in the hope he closes, and then he’s buying cigarettes to smoke after the sex. 

Or… He will eat the entire bag of kettle corn watching Netflix alone tonight when he fails miserably at the bar, using the paper towels to mop up his tears.

 

I’m at the salon on Friday and it’s quiet. A welcome repose from Thursday. It was busy yesterday night. I loved it. We made money, some of my favorite people stopped in, and the night flew by.

Cherie is on the train and on her way down to the city for the night. I lock up at 8pm and settle the drawer. She’s never been to the new salon. She texts me to ask whether she should come to me or head to my house.

I give her the address and tell her to come to the salon. I lock the doors and turn off the lights in the hallway. I hit the flashlight feature on my phone and head down the steps. The door downstairs opens and it’s Cherie!

She’s already off the train and here! I come down and give her a hug and a kiss. I’m so happy to see her. She looks great as always. Dark locks and sexy lips and hips. I’ve missed her. I’ve been thinking about her a lot this week.

Once I knew she confirmed for Friday night my hunger for her grew.

If you’ve been reading this blog you already know that I’ve accepted the fact that we can’t always be together. That’s just the way it is now. Cherie’s in school, working at the hospital, and taking care of her son. Just a full schedule.

But somehow love survives and thrives between us. A playful sweet love that has been built on a rich history over the last year. Our one year anniversary just happened two weeks ago. You would think that would be a time for great celebration and jewelry.

But she was in class and then at CHOP (Children’ Hospital) doing blood work for sick kids, and I was in meetings with an app company about selling their products in this market.

Cherie had to grow up fast in her twenties. Once you have a kid, that changes you if you’re made from anything good. Cherie is. She said to me tonight her son’s father doesn’t spend enough time with him and the support is light. I told her that I thought her ex had a good job and made decent money. She said he has five kids from two different ex-wives so he’s basically broke all the time.

“He’s white, right?”

(Laughs) “Yea. But my son is last on the list when it comes to support or time.”

“I’m sorry. But I’ve been divorced. Support is based on how many overnights he has with the child and how much income he earns. You can go to court and make him pay. It’s just a math equation.”

“You forget that we never married over the time we were together. There’s nothing in place for me to enforce it. I’m basically a single mother.”

By this point I’m lying next to her on my bed. We’re just talking before anything happens here. Her beautiful dark, almond eyes glisten with tears.

But no tears fall. She looks at me calmly describing her plight. She only blinks between statements.

My girlfriend is resolute.

“If my son’s father is going to fail and continue to fail as a father to his son with me, then I have to be the best mother I can to him.” She breathes deeply, never taking her eyes from mine. I see in her a strength I don’t know in anyone else I know. She means what she says and there’s no other choice for her. Cherie knows that because she’s lived in a world where she can count on no one but herself.

Her mom, dad and sister are great, but at the end of the day she knows she’s really the only one in her son’s life. This has been the painful and triumphant journey of many black women through history.

She’s beside me, her head supported by her hand on her side. I am lying on my back looking up to her. I realize in that moment, I truly am looking up to her.

She’s calm, and her words are sure. I love her. I love her so much in this moment. Looking upon her sheer will to survive.

I’m in awe.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Walk the streets of a busy city and you might experience some man-slamming. If you’ve never heard of man-slamming, I’ll give you some brief background on a study that labor organizer Beth Breslaw performed to see how men walk. She noticed that when a man and woman are walking towards one another on a crowded street, it’s usually the woman that has to move out of the way and make room for the oncoming entitled man. In an experiment, she decided that she wasn’t going to move out of the way and see what would happen. As a result, she collided into the majority of the men she walked by. This is where we got the term man-slamming. You can try it on your own, but brace yourself and perhaps try not to collide with a man twice your size or a one who looks like a creeper who might enjoy the collision a bit too much.

Male superiority is deemed medieval concept, but it still exists today in subtle forms because, let’s face it, men were born with a huge ego. Their entitlement factor is embedded in their DNA and affects the rest of their personality along with how they treat women. Here are the top fifteen things that, if they could, women would want to change about men.

5.

MORE SUPPORTIVE AND ENCOURAGING

5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Via knowyourmeme.com

Very few men are gifted with the ability to empathize and encourage. In fact, many women relate their experiences of talking to one to that of talking to a brick wall. Unless they’re a trained professional (chaplain, clergy, counselor, etc.) or they’re unusually sensitive, men just aren’t good at providing positive reinforcement, support, and encouragement. They’d rather watch other men run around a field chasing a ball into a goal than listen to a woman open up about her painful life experiences. Simply put, men just aren’t naturally wired to care. And if you do happen to engage in this type of conversation with a man, he’s more likely to give you cut-and-dry, get-over-it types of solutions for your problems rather than offer a shoulder to cry on.

4.

MORE COMMON GROUND

5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Via reddit.com

Just like how women desire more heart-to-heart, women also wish they could share more common ground with men. This doesn’t just apply to romantic partners, but also to professional colleagues as well. In fact, this is the one aspect that causes a rift between men and women. In the workplace, men naturally gravitate towards other men who they share more common interests with. This often leaves women wishing they could have an equal playing field when it comes to rubbing elbows with upper management. This also explains why men are more quick to earn promotions and share executive-level positions with other males.

3.

BETTER SENSE OF HUMOR

5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Via memegenerator.com

They say that laughter is the key to every successful relationship. When you see a hot chick paired with a regular-looking Joe Blow, it’s probably because he’s got an amazing personality or is the life of a party. Especially after they’ve had their share of dating every type of guy in the book, women just want a man who can keep them happy. No one wants to be stuck with in a relationship like Kourtney Kardashian and Scott Desick where Desick is a total scumbag who could really use a major personality adjustment. Sometimes, men just need to lighten up and learn the art of putting a smile on a girl’s face.

2.

NICER IN GENERAL

5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Via youtube.com

Let’s face it… most men just aren’t very sensitive beings. I’ve worked in departments where there were one or two women out of fifty men. Especially in computer-based settings, men just aren’t the most friendliest of people. I recall numerous accounts of asking an IT guy for help with a computer application only to be glared at and condescendingly spoken to like I was the village idiot. Granted, there are plenty of bitchy women out there in the world as well. But hey, we have to deal with PMS and mood swings. Otherwise, at our baseline, we’re pretty sensitive and amicable. Men, on the other hand, have no excuse for being bitchy.

1.

LESS EGO

5 Things Women Wish They Could Change About Men

Via corrierepl.it

How many men have you met in your lifetime who just thought they were the shit? Men just naturally have a big ego in contrast to their female counterparts who more frequently deal with insecurity issues. In fact, one of the top complaints women have about their male spouses or partners is his overwhelming pride. It’s very rare for a man to admit to his weaknesses and shortcomings. Just look at most father figures. It’s uncommon to see a father cry and when he does (at his daughter’s wedding or at a close relative’s funeral), it’s quite a moving sight to see. It’s even possible that men might easily pick up on all of the other traits after first tackling their ego.

 

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Sun Stories: Kita – Chapter 4 – Entanglements- Part 2

Hank texted her on Instagram and asked her about her situation

JR had basically blown her off after 4 years and discarded this delicious beauty. Dude, she’s so nice and sweet. How could you discard such an amazing  lady?

So this new guy is seeing her and it’s going well cause he’s nice to her and that’s all she wants. She says she likes white boys and this one isn’t much better looking than the last but if he’s nice to here and that’s all that matters.

Noted…

 

‘”He lies to me. He went out to a club and said he was home.”

“We’ve grown apart.”

“I can’t have a liar in my life”

I juice her with all of my amazing relationship philosophy. She needs this. I’m happy to help this poor heartbroken girl.

“She knows at 21 she’ll leap to a new guy named Hank. He’s nice and treats her well. He Dm’d her on Instagram and that’s how it’s done now. Hopefully he’s nice or at least sends out his best representative for our dear Kita.

He simply Dm’d her on instagram. (Direct Message)

It’s that easy now.

I would have given her and her friends tickets to my show back in the day and close her properly on the bus… but I digress. (she’s a nice girl)

I adore this girl, and I’m thinking about her and I know this is just a phicklephiily surge. I’m in a relationship and I’m just having a moment. Just like I always do.

Nothing will happen.

I love Cherie and I’m just having my usual nonsense.

I would like to figure out a time I can have lunch with her though. I can’t help it. I just want to be around her (and those legs) as a trusted mentor that would love to just hang and help with wisdom.

But I’m old. I should enjoy the limited time I have with anyone at all. I thanked her for giving me the hour out of her amazing delicious life to sit and talk to me.

That’s enough. That’s all I get of this girl.

Maybe I can get more.

I’m delusional.

That could never happen.

Yea… I’m done. She’s 21. I’m insane.

 

I just want to grab dinner with her. That’s all. I’m in a relationship but my love is absent and I just want to have dinner Philly style.

I won’t do anything….

 

Kita has become new #1 at the salon because she is the queen of tanning. She really has become the woman who represents what we do.  She has that certain something that lights me up.

I’m praying as I write these words on many levels. I want my girlfriend of a year to come down here this Friday night and embrace the love that we’ve found. But I want to do much that this Wednesday night I am sitting having dinner with lovely Kita. Munching her beloved salmon and looking to me as a mentor. Would I like to split her like a ripe melon? Of course. But that’s not what Kita needs right now. Her Admiral Navy dad would have me assassinated .

I’m in love with my girlfriend, Cherie. I love our limited time together. We are Motley Crue when it comes to sex, but I miss getting pizza and a movie with my love. I’m not getting any younger and if I can only see my devoted once a month because of school and career I will seek other people for companionship. I won’t cheat baby, but I just want to eat some noodles with you and you’re never around. I know you’re working toward a degree and I am somewhat loyal to you, but occasionally  I would like to tip a glass.

I miss you all the time. You are probably one of the best most loyal women I have ever met and I would consider spending the rest of my life with, but right now we are all in flux and I need to lean into that.

So in the meantime when you’re absent I’m eating gelato.

I love you Cherie, but I am what I am.

Kita says she like white boys…

 

 

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Sabrina – Hopeful

Poor girls and their substance abuse.

So the dust has settled and Jill is back tanning her ass at the salon and all is forgiven. She shows up with hot Sabrina the other night and I totally want to date her. I’ve actually been texting her that we should go out and do some sober fun things.

I figured it would be good for the blog. Drunk dude takes drinkie girl out for sober date and ice cream.

I have been talking to this old guy that comes in and tans and he works at the Walnut Street Theater. He wants to get me tickets because I helped him with a problem he had with his new phone and I’m the only one that listens to him complain. (He’s said this to me!)

He has access to tickets to shows at the theater and I want to take Jill’s hot friend Sabrina to them.

Thing is, Sabrina lives in a halfway house with Jill and is an addict like her. I talk to Sabrina and Jill clears the way with the coolness factor. But all drug addicts are liars and so is Sabrina. It’s ok. She says that her last boyfriend got her into drinking and it just took her like Jill. I get that. It’s okay. It happens, you have the gene and that shit takes you. I’ve met dozens of addicts.

But one day Jill is tanning and she tells me that with Sabrina her thing is heroin. Holy fuck. She’s super hot. She doesn’t look like a former junkie.

What do I do?

I go out with her. She’s been clean for over seven months. So could she have a drink or will the high of alcohol make her want to go up to Kensington and score some smack? I need to find this out before I go out with her. Maybe I’ll just stick to a show and some ice cream.

I’ll write more when and if the date happens.

 

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