Cherie – Chapter 6 – Be Careful What You Wish For – Part II

“Show me where there was a hole in your pants.”

“You’re driving!”

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So she fires up the car after some more kissing and off we go to Dave and Buster’s. If you’ve never heard of it, it’s a big arcade down on the waterfront. It’s got a big restaurant area, a section with a bar, a billiard room, and in the back, this giant area with all sort of games where you can do just about anything. But you can also win a bunch of tickets and then turn them in for shitty prizes. The place is great for families and couples because there is tons of stuff to do and everybody loves it. We powered up our cards with points and went to town. She did really good on some games and I got 500 points on the Wheel of Fortune game.

I think our favorite game there, hands down was Jurassic Park. I love dinosaurs and all things Jurassic Park. Cherie loves games where we can team up and just shoot the shit out of stuff with automatic weapons. It was glorious. I read somewhere recently that if you do something exciting on a date, they will associate you with excitement. Bear this in mind. We are getting lost in the game, taking out raptors and T-Rex’s right and left. We kept re-upping with our cards, to keep the game going. We did this several times because we were having so much fun, until we realized that a couple of little boys were waiting to play. We hopped out and turned our weapons over to them! We both agreed we could have sat in that booth all day destroying Jurassic Park and it’s inhabitants all afternoon if we had the time and money.

We had earned a bunch of points but we were really there just for the fun, and never redeemed them for any of the junk they had in their little prize shop in the back. Maybe next time if we need a couple of plastic spiders or teddy bears or decoder rings.

So after two hours of games, we headed to the parking garage to fetch the car. At this point Cherie has been with me for over 4 hours. I check with her to see how she’s with time and all, and she’s fine. Being from Pottstown, She doesn’t know the city like I do, so I’m her co-pilot and navigator. We’re heading west on Spring Garden, and I have her throw a left on 19th street. I figure that’ll bring us right down into center city and we can get some sort of dinner. We get to Vine, and there’s a detour. Okay, I get it. Lot’s of construction going on in Philly. City is growing. That’s a good thing.

So now we’re heading west again. But we can’t turn left again anywhere. The Police have more streets blocked off. We get out to the Philadelphia Museum of Art and everything is still blocked off. There’s some sort of event going on out front of the PMA. Lots of people and little white tents. If Cherie had been on her own she would have been totally lost. We kept heading west unable to turn left and head back. I suggested we turn right and go north. We drove up a winding street out in Fairmount and I had her turn right on Poplar. That’s how far North we were.

Although we were basically driving around for an hour, I liked that Cherie described it as a road trip. I told her if she just stayed on Poplar and kept going, we’d get back to center city. We chatted about different things, work, school, family, etc. At some point I told her my ripped pants story. She laughed and asked where the hole had been in the other pants. We had been a little frisky earlier and there had been some suggestive flirty talk so things had changed a lot since 1:30 this afternoon.

I told her about this guy I used to know who always thought about things mathematically. So if you went on a date and you were out for say, 2 hours, that was just a date. But if it was longer, like say over 4 hours he would count that as 2 dates. Make sense? It did to him. She says, so technically we’re no longer on our 3rd date we’re on like our 5th. I laugh and say yes, according to my friend.

She goes, “show me where they were ripped.”

“You’re driving!”

We stop at a light and I take her hand, and slowly raise my left leg and place her hand there under my crotch. I know this is an extremely forward move, but it was playful and I think she really wanted to touch me. So I say, “right there.” She says, “okay” and rubs the spot gently. The light turns green and she has to focus on driving. We laugh about the whole silly hole thing. We basically spent the next 20 minutes looking for parking. Maybe it was  a half hour. But instead of it being stressful and annoying like you would think it would be, it was a lively road trip as she called it. We were just enjoying each others company and were having a good time. Cherie is so patient and laid back. It’s wonderful.

It’s dark now, and we finally find a spot for the Saab down at 23rd and Christiansen. She’s like, “are we really far away from everything? Because I don’t know the city.” I exclaim, “After that trip, I don’t even know where I live anymore!” We laugh and smooch and get out of the  car. I ask her if she’s hungry and she says yes. We’re walking north on 23rd street now. I see this guy walking carrying a pizza box. I tell her that whenever I see that it always makes me smile, want pizza, and maybe follow him. I ask her if she could go for some piping hot delicious pie. She says she can and I tell her I know just the place. They do brick oven and they even have a bar there.

We go into Mix Pizza at 21st and Chestnut. I’m a big fan of this place. She doesn’t want any weird kind of pizza even though they can make you any combination of sin you want on your oven baked pie. She’s so easy to get along with. We order an 18″ half pepperoni, half plain. My favorite. She gets a root beer and I get a diet coke. I look at the cocktail menu. She asks me if I want a drink and I tell her I don’t. I just don’t feel like drinking. Little does she know, she’s the drug I am currently on.

I ask her if she’s ever had anchovies and she says they’re nasty. I agree. I go on to tell her this story about this girl I used to go out with when I was in California in the early eighties with my band. She loved anchovies. So we would order a pizza and her half would be anchovies and mine would be plain. But the horrible rub was this. The pizza is hot in the box when you get it. That nasty, salty anchovy juice would bleed over into two of MY slices. So technically she was getting 6 slices and I was getting only 2 slices of what I liked. It was gross. But I loved her so it didn’t really matter. She asked a little more about her. I told her I was 19 at the time and she was 18, and that I had met her through a girl I worked with at this restaurant. I also told her I relieved her of her virginity. I didn’t mention that she was black. She was my first black girlfriend. I don’t know why, but things are still new and I just didn’t want to get her gears turning that maybe black women are a fetish or a thing that I jump into once every decade or so. I know, it doesn’t make sense, but I have to be careful with this lady’s heart.

The pizza comes and we tear into it. It’s delicious. She picks up her slice and starts eating it but it’s hot. I tell her to be careful that the hot cheese doesn’t slide off and slam into her chin, burning her beyond recognition. We laugh about it. I of course am eating mine with a knife and fork. Cherie’s amused about this but says she likes that I am such a neat eater. Most men devour and attack food. I carefully dissect my food and then consume it. She doesn’t care and compliments me on being so sweet and such a gentleman. It’s nice to be appreciated. At the end of the meal we still have 4 slices left. When I go to Mix and I’m really hungry, I normally get the 12′ pie. I can crush that thing. I figured there were two of us and I didn’t know how much she would eat. But we’re basically done. I ask the guy to wrap it up. He says it’s still good for later. I agree.

I pay the bill and head back to the car, which is far away but it’s a nice clear night. I’m carrying this big pizza box as we walk south on 21st street. I have suddenly become the man I see on the street that I want to follow. I’m the guy with the pizza. I ask her if she wants to take it home and she says not really. I’m not really a leftovers guy, and don’t feel like carrying this huge box anymore. I want to hold hands with Cherie.

We get to 21st and Sansom and I tell her I want to make a quick stop. She’s fine with it. Just like she’s fine with everything. I may have never met a woman who is this easy-going in my entire life. I hang a left on Sansom. I tell her how much I like Sansom street. It’s just this little narrow street between Chestnut and Walnut but it has so many different cool places on it. The Ritz movie theater, Helium Comedy Club, performance spaces, bars, restaurants, record shops, a comic book store, a gay porn place, I mean everything. I should do a chapter about a tour that I take and go to every place on Sansom in a day.

We get to 19th street and walk past Cavanaugh’s bar. There’s an alcove that appears to be a loading dock for the back of maybe Boyds department store on Chestnut. There’s usually a few homeless people getting some shelter in there. I see a man, in ragged clothes with a pile of his stuff. He’s not one of these street grifter types we have here in Philly. This man is really homeless. I cross the street, with baby in tow, and approach him with the box in front of me. “Did somebody order a pizza, half pepperoni?” I say, offering the box to him. His eyes light up, and a smile appears on his weathered visage. He takes the box and thanks me. “You’re welcome. God bless you.” I say as we walk away. I look back and he is tearing into the pizza.

“You’re a good guy.” she says, rubbing my back with her hand. I smile and say, “Movies, arcade games, road trip, pizza, and feed the homeless? I’d say this has been an epic date.” Cherie agrees. We walk hand in hand all the way back to the car.

I know I’m writing about my personal life and the experiences I’m having with women in my life here in the City of Brotherly Love, but I’m not one to kiss and tell. I’m trying to keep this story classy. It was late. Somewhere around 10pm. We made out in the car for a bit. The radio never came on once. Not even when we were on our road trip. We were just enjoying our time together. A friend of mine had asked me recently that when I went on these dates with these women, did I miss them after the date was over? Was there a longing for them. I flatly told him, I sort of enjoyed my time with them, but for the most part I was relieved it was over. I could go back to the batcave, have a drink and a cig and get back to my quiet life. But this girl was different. It’s like we didn’t want the night to end. We would have just sat in her car and made out like a couple of teenagers. There was a point in the night when she just had that dreamy look in her eyes. I could see it and I know I had it too. That feeling is magic and hard to find at my age. But it was late, and she had to drive back to Pottstown. I wanted to be considerate of her time too. She drove me back to Rittenhouse and we said our good nights. More kisses.

We decided that because of our busy schedule this week we couldn’t do a lunch. But we did nail it down for next Saturday. So this is moving forward. I asked that she please text me when she got home to let me know that she arrived safely. She promised she would. I got out of her car, and went into my building.

Wow. That was a 10 hour date. May be a record this early in the game. Feels like a match.

I went into my apartment and turned on some lights. I went back downstairs, and she was gone. I stood on my stoop and lit a cigarette. It tasted glorious. I just wanted to be out in the fresh air and pull on that cig, basking in the afterglow of a perfect day with a lovely charming, woman. I’m having real feelings for this girl. Will it last? Who knows. I’m just going to enjoy this and let the universe unfold as it should. If it works out will she want to get married and have kids, and then it will end like the last three?

Probably. But for now, love is in the air and I breathe it in deeply, and blow it out in a cloud of smoke into the autumn evening.

P.S. I did get that text from Cherie and hour later and she was safe and sound. We agreed the day was epic and amazing. I wished her only sweet dreams that night. Maybe I would dream of her too.

 

 

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Amanda – The Fur Coat Incident

“Oh, the majesty of the chance encounter where you can embody a porn star, go by a different name, work in a field different from your own, lie about every aspect of your life and feel damn good about yourself.”

This ones from a few years ago. I was hanging out at the The Ranstead Room. It’s a cool, dark speakeasy bar in center city. I think her name was Amanda but I could be totally wrong about that. I can’t remember when we met or how we started making out but like magic, we were. She was slender and had nice curly dark hair and she was unapologetically wearing a fur coat.

We made it back to my apartment and we proceeded to do all the filthy things that you would want to live out in a one night stand. Oh, the majesty of the chance encounter where you can embody a porn star, go by a different name, work in a field different from your own, lie about every aspect of your life and feel damn good about yourself.

You are willing to go beyond your typical repertoire because there is simply no judgment. I tossed her around into all the different positions that I could imagine and we just genuinely enjoyed our awesome fuck session.

When it was over, I made the mistake of trying to go again but a lot of whisky had been drank that night and I was trying to write checks my body couldn’t cash. Needless to say, the spark was gone. About halfway through my attempt at a round two, she suggested that we take a break and go outside and have a cigarette.

My god I was thankful. I quickly threw on a pair of pants and a jacket and by the time I got to the door, she was just wearing her fur coat. She didn’t have her skirt or underwear, just her fur coat and everything else was naked, it was kind of sexy. Anyway, we get out to my balcony and she starts telling me that she forgot her cigarettes. I offer her one of mine and she was like “No way, those aren’t menthol” and I was like “Cool, I’ll go find yours”. I go back into the house for a few minutes looking for her pack but can’t find them or her purse.

I then go back out to ask her where she could have left them when I see it. She climbed down my fire escape to the ground level and was running across the street completely naked (except for her coat), without shoes or anything in the middle of winter. She hails a taxi and gets the fuck out of there. I never saw her again after that. She left her clothes and shoes in my apartment. She had her purse the whole time. As I was watching her naked ass run down the sidewalk I remember wondering if it was because I was that bad of a lay.

But then it dawned on me….I didn’t give a shit.

 

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Church – Money Monday

Flushed with the excitement of all of the antique trains that my sister Janice and I sold in York, I knew I should get the cash portion of my sales into the bank. (See: Train Show in York, PA)

I walked up to Cavanagh’s Rittenhouse to take advantage of their Monday lunch special: 1/2 off all cheesesteaks. I was a little banged up from the night before from celebrating our winnings. Ann Marie my favorite bartender came over to chat. (See: Ann Marie – 2015 to Present – Rose Among The Thorns)

I order a beer, and the usual. Ann Marie is her usual charming self. But she has to get back to the bar. I open my laptop and write a bit until my lunch arrives. It’s perfect as always. I’m feeling happy about how well we did at the show in York, and just glowing at how much fun I had hanging with my sister.

Church shows up, and while we’re sitting there he tells me he’s waiting on a phone call about a new job. Within a few minutes his phone rings and he has to step out.

I order another beer. Probably not the best idea because it’s early. I never really ever have a drink until 5pm. But today I’m celebrating a win, so fuck it.

Church returns and tells me the company he was interviewing with just called him and offered him the job. I congratulate him on his success, and I pay the bill and head out. Church drives me to my bank and I deposit my loot.

I’m relieved that I’m no longer carrying around all that cash in my pocket! We park the car and run into the bartender and server from Sofitel, Liam and Laura. We’re chatting with them and they’re both off  from work, so they’ve been hanging out and drinking. We agree to all meet up later for a drink somewhere.

Church suggests we go to Gran Caffee L’Aquilla. I took my friend Emily there and she loved it! (See: Emily – 2016 to Present – Super Baby Sister) Church knows the bartender there and we’ll probably get the hookup. (Free and discounted drinks) But what Church doesn’t know is one of the owners comes to the salon to tan. He left something valuable in one of rooms and thought it was gone. I found it behind a chest of drawers and recently returned it to him. Although he speaks little English, I could see the look of delight on his face when I handed it to him.

We go to the bar and we’re chatting with Church’s buddy and I see The owner guy.  He comes over and smiles and shakes my hand. He starts talking to the bartender in Italian, and I can sort of pick up that he’s telling him the story of my search and rescue of his belonging.

He walks away and I ask the bartender what that was all about. He says that I’m getting a special hookup.

“A hookup just this time?”

“I think you will be getting special treatment for a while here.”

Sweet! So I order up some chardonnay and sip away chatting with he and Church. I’m getting pretty buzzed. The conversation is flowing and so is the wine. I tell Church I’m supposed to meet up with my friend Carly at 5:30. (See: Carly – 2012 to Present – The Mad Baker)

I’m getting texts from Liam and Laura (Bartender and Server at Liberte’ Bar at Hotel Sofitel) that they want to grab a drink with us. I’ve had one too many already, so I suggest the Gold Club. The seedy strip club downtown. (See: Johnny R. – 2010 – Present – Needle in the Groove) I’m not really into strip joints as you know, but I figured it would pull a good story for the blog with some decent crossover characters.

We get there and grab a table in the back. Liam rolls in and tells us Laura forgot her ID and they won’t let her in. Who the fuck leaves the house without their ID, especially if they’re going out drinking? But Laura has many issues, this being the least of them.

So Liam and Church are chatting about who knows what, not even taking part in the revelry happening onstage. They are literally facing each other as if they are not even in a strip joint. So I’m enjoying the show and my buzz. Fuck them.

There is some chick swinging on the pole and she’s looking pretty fit. “Living After Midnight” by Judas Priest comes on and I’m digging her more. I also notice she has a lovely pair of distended nipples on her small breasts. She’s good. The next song to come on is “Starbreaker” also by Judas Priest from the Sin After Sin album. Now I’m loving this woman. Those are her song choices. This lady speaks my language and likes metal.

When she’s finished her dance she glides over to me and sits next to me. She seems really sweet. Fair skinned, lean, with auburn hair. I decide to get something I haven’t gotten in years. A lap dance!

Church and Liam are still being a pair of buzz killigtons in the corner. Why the fuck did I bring them here?

Anyway, me and “Tigre” head into the champagne room. (There’s no champagne room at this dive. Just little private booths.) I sit in the chair and she pulls the curtain as she straddles my lap. I’m actually loving this. I never do this anymore!

She takes off her top and starts grinding on me. Normally in gentleman’s clubs you can’t touch the girls, but in this shithole, you can pretty much do what you want. Why do you think my buddy Johnny R. loves this place so much? Free blow jobs.

But alas, dear readers I am a gentleman and I genuinely feel for these drug addled single mothers. Tigre is swiveling on my crotch, I’m running my hands up and down her sleek thighs. She presses forward and her nipple touches my lips. I defy any man to resist a nipple placed near their mouth. (Google: ‘Rooting Reflex’)

It’s funny when I’m with Johnny R. I resist the vice probably because he’s doing enough of it for the both of us. But for some reason tonight, I want to partake. While my other two friends are sitting out in the main room playing circle jerk.

Tigre is offering me her soft pretzel bites and I’m enjoying them so much! There is nothing else going on between us sexually other than that nibbling.

But anything that’s super fun is always over too quickly so our little session wraps up and I we go out to the main room again and sit. Tigre’s very nice and seems pretty normal. She says she works Monday through Friday, noon to six.  She volunteers her number and puts it in my phone. I see what’s she’s doing. Building a return client base. If it’s ever a slow day, she can summon up a few of us to come in and see her and she’ll increase her daily revenue. Shrewd chick after all.

I’m done, and have to go meet Carly for happy hour. Church goes off with Liam. I think this is only happening because they’re supposed to be going to Laura’s apartment. Which all revolves around the story Liam told to us when we all went to Angel’s Envy event. (See: Church – Angel’s Envy) Apparently when Laura gets drunk she breaks out her huge melons. (I’m positive that’s the ONLY reason Church is going with Liam to her apartment.)

On a wing and a prayer, Church thinks he’s going to see those glorious puppies.

I do my usual happy hour thing with Carly at Square 1682. We catch up and I’m a little fuzzy on the details because I’d been sipping since 1pm.

Apparently Church’s phone’s dead. Seems like it’s always on the verge. I even recently bought him a cool battery thing that my friend Cheyanne turned me on to. (See: Cheyanne – 2016 to Present – Elegant Power) I can’t get a hold of him and I’m drunk and annoyed at this point. I finally reach him through Liam.

I meet him at his car on Chestnut and now it seems I’m drunk enough to believe that if I go to Laura’s apartment I’ll get to see her major league sized yabahos.

Laura lives in a nice little apartment at 12th and Walnut. She and Liam are sitting there watching Jeopardy. Church lies on Laura’s bed. (Which I don’t get, but I think it was a studio so there may not have been anywhere else to recline.)

Laura is crushing cocktails and pouring me as many as I want, and I’m crushing Jeopardy. Drunk or not, Phicklephilly knows his trivia.

Things get fuzzy afer that. I know nothing happened between anyone at the apartment. I just remember Church driving me home. As I climbed the steps inside my four story walk up, I suddenly really have to go to the bathroom. I’m banged up and struggling with the lock on the door to my apartment.

I’m really having a tough time and the brown beast is growling with fury in my bowels. The lock has been sticking lately in the humid weather. I crank the key and the lock suddenly pops. And so does my ass.

Yep. I shit my pants.

Money Monday, my ass!

 

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Tinder Moments

Hello all. I’ve been at this dating thing for awhile as you all know. I’ve encountered my share of ups and downs. There have been the fun ones, the boring ones and the crazies. While on this journey, I’ve met a lot of interesting people. But I’ve looked at thousands of profiles on these online dating sites. Every once in awhile I get a ringer that really tickles my Phickle.

Here are some of the craziest dating profiles I have encountered since I’ve been at this. I thought I should share a few of them for your enjoyment just so you know what’s out there.

Enjoy!

 

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Crazy right? Keep your heart open and have a great week!

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

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Phicklephilly – 1962 to Present – Try Me

All you have in this world is your personality. That’s the very thing that carries you forth in this world. If you don’t have a good personality and good people skills, you better work hard and be on point. Because that’s all you have. But if you don’t develop a good personality, people won’t like you and you’ll fail. They won’t let you succeed but there will be those in power that have shitty personalities that will see your beautiful one and they will try to stomp you down, because you possess a power they do not. This will  happen more than less. But if you surround yourself with bad people, they will bask in your sunlight and drain the very light from you. They will be false people. The further you have to reach for them the easier it will be for them to pull you down.

Surround yourself with strong and good people. Hard working, honest people. They will give you power and embrace you and see your gifts. They’re difficult to find. But keep looking and follow your mind and your heart because sometimes your heart can deceive you. The heart becomes clouded with sex and beauty and promises of wonderful things.

Stay the course and try not to become jaded. Continue to develop your personality and keep your heart open and pure. Always be working to evolve, but always be open to love.

But there are those that don’t have your power that will come to you for help. Choose them wisely. Help them, but don’t give them solutions you already know will help them. Just be present. If they’re good and kind, give them your time and your words and experience. Don’t push them. Only they can find their own way on the right path. They may choose the wrong one, but just be there for then to listen and care for them if they are truly good. If they are bad, discard them because you cannot help them.

Work hard to know the difference. I know you’ll be frustrated with them in their life but think of your own. Wouldn’t someone you care for be frustrated with the choices that you’ve made?

Of course they would.

Be there for the sweet fragile souls that need you and are good people in their hearts. The good ones that are damaged by themselves, or weakness, or have been crushed by rotten people or circumstances.

Be that person. Be patient. My mother was a patient woman. She put up with a lot of bullshit and came from nothing. Stand for something. Don’t fall for everything.

Help others, but beware of the fleas and ticks, because they are many, and would love to find purchase on the glorious, luxurious coat that is your good nature and wisdom.

Go forth and love again!

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

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Cherie – Chapter 5 – Be Careful What You Wish For – Part I

Don’t be a guy.

Be a man.

Saturday arrived. I woke up relatively early. Philly had periods of showers but the rain was supposed to stop around 1pm, so that was good. I didn’t want another rainy day date with Cherie. But actually I was looking forward to seeing her so the weather didn’t really matter.

I stopped by the salon to drop off some detergent and bring my friend Trish some fives for the register. She was hung over from a night of Jameson at Tattooed Mom’s with her friends on South Street. She stopped drinking alcohol about a year ago, because she said she didn’t like how she behaved on it. Said it made her angry. Trish is angry anyway and I can only imagine what a nightmare she is on booze. That’s probably part of the reason she can’t function without smoking marijuana everyday and drinking oceans of coffee just to get through the day. I’ll be writing a chapter about her in the near future but for now I’ll stick to the events of today.

I give Trish the fives and she hands me a twenty out of the register. I’m walking across the lobby to take a seat and chat with her for a bit when she says. You have a hole in the back of your pants. I’m like, “Stop checking out my sweet ass.”

“Seriously dude. You have a huge hole in your pants. Don’t you feel that?”

I reach back and sure enough, there is a pretty good-sized hole there.

“I didn’t want you going out on your date today with a big old hole in your pants, dude.”

I joke that maybe I could guide Cherie’s hand to it in the movie theater for some cheap thrills.

“It’s the 3rd date!”

“I hate that shit!”

I tell her I agree. I don’t know if you all know this but a lot of young people are under the impression that the 3rd date equals sex. Which I find stupid. In all seriousness I would rather get to know someone and if there is a mutual attraction, the sex should just happen as a celebration at some point. There should never be a deadline related to intercourse. That almost sounds predatory.

So I head back to my apartment to put on another pair of jeans. I grab a pair and realize I haven’t worn them in a while. Like two years. They are a 36 waist. I now wear a 32 waist, but can do a 34 with a belt. They’re just too big and I look ridiculous. I grab another pair. Another hole in the seat. What’s going on here? Did I wear out the seat of two pair of jeans? I know I see the occasional mouse here in the building but what sort of butt munching rodents do we have around here?

I find a pair that are in decent shape with no holes in the seat, and put them on. This will have to do. I go downstairs and summon an UBER. While driving down to Columbus Boulevard to the multiplex, I chat with my driver, Hanna. She asks me what movie I’m going to see. I tell her the lady I’m taking likes scary movies, so we’re seeing, ‘Ouija: Origin of Evil.’ Some how she gathers from our conversation that my date is younger than me. She asks, and I tell her she’s a little younger. She tells me about a male friend of hers, who is 50 something and was dating a woman in her 40’s and just wasn’t happy. He said that women his age were all carrying all the same baggage. He’s now dating a woman around 30 and says that younger women are just more fun. I say that I agree, but when you date younger women they all eventually want to get married and have kids.  She says that her friend is always up front about that sort of thing. Maybe I should have been clear about that in my last 3 failed relationships. And here I am being driven to what could possibly be a 4th similar destination.

She lets me out and I go into the lobby and get in line for tickets. The movie starts at 1:50 and it is now 1:30. I get the tickets and as I turn to wait for Cherie, she appears. On time. Early. I like that. It’s really nice to see her. Even though it’s only been four days since our last encounter.

Her hair is up in a bun, exposing her lovely slender neck. makes me think about how I kissed that neck on Tuesday. She’s wearing a yellow blouse, and light brown slacks. They cling to her shapely legs.

We are about to enter our auditorium and we notice the floor is really sticky. Someone must have spilled a soda there, and they tried to mop it up but didn’t get it all up. Now I’ve been to plenty of movie theaters in my time, and have jokes about the sticky stuff and detritus that is on the floor of the theaters, but this was really sticky. I had to laugh out loud. I practically had to curl my toes to keep my shoes from being pulled off by that sticky floor. Just a classic ‘out at the movies’ moment.

We go in and decide that we both like to sit in the back of the theater. I ask her if she wants anything to eat. I suggest some delicious buttery popcorn. She says it’s ok but doesn’t like how it can stick in your teeth. She says she likes chocolate, but not dark chocolate. I tell her I love dark chocolate. She smiles and knows what I mean. I really do prefer dark chocolate to milk chocolate, but I also love the color of her skin. I go and mortgage my house at the concession stand on exorbitantly expensive snacks. Medium popcorn, medium cherry coke, bottle of water, and a bag of snickers minis for baby. $21. The food was as much as the tickets. The kid behind the counter even told me I could upgrade to a large popcorn and a large soda for $.50 more. I compliment him on his up-sell, but politely decline.

I get back to Cherie. I get all of our snacks and drinks squared away and sit down. “How did you know I loved Snickers?” she asks. “Well I’m funny and you like to laugh, so I figured, Snickers. she smiles and we settle into the previews. There aren’t many people in the theater. I like that. There’s also no late arrivals and no one is sitting in front of us. I love that as well. People are getting seated and chattering a little but that’s acceptable during the previews. We’re whispering closely. Then we kiss. It’s really nice. I feel like a teenager. I haven’t smooched in a movie theater in years. It was so sweet to hold hands too. She rubbed my arm and caressed my hand, and I was even so bold as to rub her leg and knee. It was all very gentle and romantic. What a refreshing difference from the crap women I went on dates with a few months ago. But I’m really enjoying this elegant romantic odyssey.

There is one rub that I have to mention. It’s happened a few times since then. We call it the C-Block, or the CBs. Cherie and I are in the very back row of the theater. All the way in the aisle to the right against the wall. There is only one way out. Doesn’t some pair of fucknuts sit at the very end of the aisle? This couple just sort of drops it there. One row down would have been fine. But they are right now, in OUR aisle. They could have sat anywhere. There weren’t that many people in the theater. It’s just a human thing. Homo Sapiens are such social animals they have to be together all the time. I can tell Cherie doesn’t want them there and neither do I. But there’s nothing we can do. Nothing but make a bunch of trips to the snack bar and the bathrooms. This way we can thrust our delicious firm buttocks right in their stupid faces.

Oh, never mind. It’s just annoying, we just wanted some private time to neck in the back of the theater!

The movie was a pretty by the numbers horror flick. I’d give it a solid three and a half stars. Demon possession, scary children, and good sudden frights do make you jump. We shared the popcorn and the candy. It was lovely. I was happy to be there sharing this Halloween treat with her.

After the film, we went outside. The sun was out and the rain was gone. It had been warm during the week, but had suddenly turned chilly in the last couple of days. Cherie always has trouble finding a place to park in the city, but down by the movie theater there is always loads of parking spots. We walk over to her Saab, and hop in to get out of the chill. We’re chatting about our next move, (which I have already planned) and more kissing ensues. She tells me she was hoping I would agree to sit in the back of the theater so we could neck. It appears this girl really likes me. She says she likes how soft my hands are. It makes me think of Captain Quint when he grabs Matt Hooper’s hands in the film Jaws, and says “You’ve got city hands, Mr. Hooper, from counting money all your life!” That, and the scene in Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men” when one of the men on the farm puts petroleum jelly in his one glove to keep is hand soft for when he touches his woman. I don’t know why my mind flashed to those two images but for a moment they do.

I suggest we go over to Dave and Buster’s to go play games together. She likes the idea. I will say this about my lovely neuroscience major. She is very bright and quick of wit, but extremely laid back and easy-going. She’s from California, and this chick is chill. I always compliment her about her sweet disposition, because I really like that about her. Peaceful is good. She tells me, that between her two jobs, going to class, and taking care of her son, she has to make many decisions every day. She says she likes how I take charge, and just tell her where we’re going and what time it’s happening. I always have a plan and take the lead. She finds that attractive. So take note male readers, many women like to be told what you’re doing with them and where you’re taking them. Women are great negotiators and communicators, but when it comes to picking a lunch spot, just tell them pizza or sushi or just take them somewhere they serve different stuff and go. I have to give thanks here to my late father in regard to the clock. If he told you something was going to happen, or we were going to be somewhere at a specific time, it happened without error. He taught me that your word is your bond, and always be punctual. Like Beau Bridges says to Michelle Pfieffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys, “Punctuality is the first rule of show business.” Life itself is like a giant long series. You’re the star of your own show. Make it a fun, exciting show if you can. To sum up: Girls like a take-charge man.

Don’t be a guy.

Be a man.

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

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Alice – 2012 to Present – Brunch

I wait by the door and after a few minutes, a dainty hand reaches out the door and hands me her dress.

I was already having a good weekend. My friend Alice texted me and asked if I wanted to join her for brunch on Saturday. (See: Alice – 2012 to Present – The Cute Recruiter) I was basically rolling out of bed and her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

Can I just say that I’m honored at 55 to be texted by an attractive 25 year old girl to go hang out and have brunch. She was making six figs in her early twenties as an IT recruiter for several companies. She got me my job at the liquor magazine to sell advertising. She made money from my hire. Alice is a deadly recruiter. That’s why she owns her own company now at 25.  She’s got the investors and they are seriously growing. She’s a good human being. She’s taken her licks and learned some lessons but she continues to go forward and kill it. I love and admire her for that. So like I said, I’m honored to have drinks with her at Locust Rendezvous and play quizzo, and eat wings and drink beer, or have brunch with this wonderful young lady.

Seriously, what 55-year-old single man is THE choice to have brunch with a beautiful 25-year-old girl?

Be an honorable man and a father and you’ll reap what you sow in this life with all of the people in your life. Young and old, male and female.

Balance.

I’m just happy to be surrounded by good hard-working stable people who are building businesses like myself and going forth in their lives.

Thank you Alice, for your continued friendship. You’re keeping me young!

Oh… One more thing. Did I mention Alice has gotten an apartment in the city. She’s broken away from the suburbs and moved downtown. She can walk to work! She’s in the city! I love it. She isn’t so good at navigating Philly yet, but we’ll help her. She’s been great at navigating everything else in her life so far, so I know she’ll be fine.

We met at Marathon on 19th and Spruce. Basically two blocks from my house. It wasn’t raining at the time so of course I left my umbrella home. The place wasn’t crowded or too noisy so I was happy. I forgot that Alice had broken her foot playing softball and watched as she hobbled in walking on her air cast.

Service was on point and the food was good. Alice went on about her latest relationships. For a girl who is CEO of a recruitment firm she sure meets a lot of men. Her latest is an artist that is pretty well-known in the city. From what she’s told me, he seems very nice. She did tell me that she recently learned that he has a 7-year-old son. She also told me this guy she’s seeing smokes cigarettes. Normally, that’s a deal breaker for Alice, but she really likes him, and he says he wants to quit.

They all say that.

“You know how much I hate smoking!”

“Yes, Alice. You’ve made it abundantly clear to me on many, many occasions.” I groan.

We also discuss how her former friend and employee, Keila has been a piece of shit to her. Alice says that in their last exchange, Keila was so mean. I told her to block her on all social media and on her phone. Keila is a crazy asshole that karma is going to eventually come back around and get her for the evil she has committed against Alice. Fucking ungrateful whelps! She’s get hers. (See: Keila – 2012 to 2017 – The Gaza Stripper)

Alice says that she already has cut her off for good.

After brunch Alice tells me she wants to go tanning. We start walking towards the salon, but it starts raining. We stop at the restaurant, Parc to stand under one of their awnings. I ask one of the servers if he has a plastic bag. Alice is worried her cast will get wet and she doesn’t want that to happen.

They guy hands me a big trash bag. I rip it in half and fashion a little booty out of the lower part of the bag. I wrap it around the cast and then tuck it into it. Now she looks like a homeless cripple in a blue dress.

We make it over to the salon, and she slowly climbs the steps. (There are 30 steps to the salon) When she finally get there I introduce her to Achilles, who is working today. Her dress is soaked. I send her back to one of the lay down beds in the back. I wait by the door and after a few minutes, a dainty hand reaches out the door and hands me the wet dress. The door closes and I walk to the laundry room and throw it in the dryer.

I know when her session will finish. (12 minutes later) Which is just long enough time for her blue dress to be completely dry. I grab it from the dryer and walk back to her room.

“Alice. I got your dress. It’s all dry.”

“Awesome. Thanks!” The little hand pops out from around the door and grabs the garment.

After that she went her way and I had to get to Suburban Station to meet up with a Cherie.

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly                            Facebook: phicklephilly