Roman – Rock and Roll Bartender

I introduced myself and gave him my card. (I’m in sales. Automatic behavior) I’m sure he didn’t give a shit.

I started hanging at Square 1682 because of Carly. (See: Carly – 2012 to Present – The Mad Baker) It was our time to commiserate and share stories and just enjoy each other’s company. But along the way you start to love the staff too. Roman was my first.

I was sitting at the bar one night waiting for Carly. I started chatting with the bartender on board. He was 30’s, dark hair, a little long, medium build and a no-nonsense kind of guy. Not a big conversationist, but an attentive barman.

I introduced myself and gave him my card. (I’m in sales. Automatic behavior) I’m sure he didn’t give a shit. I told him his lastname was unique and I only knew two girls in my life with that last name. I knew them in my senior year of high school at Wildwood High School.

I was in American lit, and there was this girl Lisa with the same unique last name as this fine bartender. I would be reading Bell for Adano and checking out her lovely shapely stockinged legs and I knew she knew I was looking at her but she knew I would never have her. I was just a guitar player in a band. But… I was a straight A student in English and American lit, because I love words.

I told him about Lisa in my American Literature class in Wildwood back in 1980, and her younger sister Maria, and he said they were his aunts! God, I’m old. But I love this amazing connection! Lisa was in my class and a delicious brunette and her sister Maria was a blonde that was in my lead guitarist’s math class. Amazing. James was totally into her too.

So this guy who lives in Jersey and comes over on the PATCO everyday to work as a bartender is connected to a very old history of mine. Instant respect.

Roman is also a musician. He works the bar, and has been doing more work in the office when it comes to ordering product for the bar. But there is more…

This is a Kimpton hotel. Every night in every Kimpton hotel in the world at 5pm they serve free wine and cider in the lobby to all of the guests. Have I been a slob and drank my face off for free at those happy hours with my friends, of course. I have brought guests and everything. No one has ever said anything to me. I have drunk oceans of free wine at the expense of the Kimpton family. They either don’t notice or have accepted me as a regular. Regardless I’ve done it but I don’t do it anymore because it’s a bit of a weasel move.

On Thursday nights Roman plays guitar live in the lobby for everybody for an hour set. It’s really good. I work at the salon on thursday nights so I have not been able to see him perform in over a year and I really miss it. He is fantastic. The guests are sitting around chatting, stuffing their heads with delicious greasy truffle popcorn and slugging wine and Roman is singing his heart out. I have shot video of him performing Elton John and sent them to Michelle (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) so she can enjoy the power too.

Roman’s a good guy. Married. Nice pretty wife, and they just welcomed a happy baby boy into the world. So, rock n’ roll.

I love when life works!

 

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Church – 2013 to Present -Seizure Salad

I’m sitting in my go to bar with Church. It’s our spot and it’s what we do. He’s sipping a Sailor Jerry and Coke, and I’m having my usual Chardonnay with a side of ice. He orders a salad and I go with the sliders. There is a couple a few seats down from me to my right. I know the guy, his name is Brian, but I don’t know the lady he’s with so I wave but don’t approach. He could be working.

On the left of Church, is a brunette in her thirties and an older gentleman. Looks like a lawyer. We don’t really pay any attention. We’re chatting and doing our thing.

Daphne rolls behind the bar and says hello. She tells me it’s a slow night. Not much happening. She goes back to her hostess stand and it’s just another night in paradise.

Suddenly, the woman who was sitting to Church’s left, goes off the bar stool and hits the floor. Normally, I’d call that Thursday night.  We see so many banged up people around the city losing their shit. But this woman was having a seizure. People within visual range are shocked and the bar goes quiet.

I point to the phone on the wall, because the bartender on duty didn’t see one of her patrons suddenly vanish from the bar. “Liz, call 911.”

She starts dialing. Church, with his cat-like reflexes, springs into action and goes from sitting next to me sipping a drink to all the way around the other side of her on the floor holding her head to keep her steady. I get down there and untangle her leg from the lower rail of his bar stool. I have the legs. Church is focuses on the poor woman’s head. She’s thrashing about, and Church is barking commands to those around him. He’s literally single-handedly coordinating the effort to help save this poor woman, and keeping her from injuring herself further.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but Church was formerly a Corpsmen in the United States Navy.

A Corpsman works in a wide variety of capacities and locations, including shore establishments such as naval hospitals and clinics, aboard ships, and as the primary medical caregivers for sailors while underway. Hospital corpsmen are frequently the only medical caregiver available in many fleet or Marine units on extended deployment. In addition, hospital corpsmen perform duties as assistants in the prevention and treatment of disease and injury and assist health care professionals in providing medical care to sailors and their families.

They may function as clinical or specialty technicians, medical administrative personnel and health care providers at medical treatment facilities. They also serve as battlefield corpsmen with the Marine Corps, rendering emergency medical treatment to include initial treatment in a combat environment. Qualified hospital corpsmen may be assigned the responsibility of independent duty aboard ships and submarines; Fleet Marine Service, SEAL and Seabee units, and at isolated duty stations where no medical officer is available.

Yea, pretty bad ass. That’s the guy you want next to you when somebody takes a header at your favorite bar.

She’s making what almost sounds like barking sounds, and staring wildly about. He’s got a good hold on her. He’s talking to her. But mostly he’s trying to keep her from bashing her face into the wooden wall of the bar. The bartender comes around, and some others have gathered. I grab a cloth napkin and ask if we need to put it in her mouth. I always heard that epileptics could bite or swallow their own tongues. Church says, no. He knows what he’s doing and has the situation well under control.

She seems to be calming down. I look over at the guy who was with her. He’s just standing there staring, and looking uncomfortable. The paramedics come and stabilize her. I feel so bad for her. It’s the holidays, and she’s out for a drinks and this horror befalls her. They get her onto the gurney and roll her out. The police are there and also ask some questions. Church is on point, he gives law enforcement the full report.

They also speak to the guy she came in with. He says he doesn’t know her very well. He met her over at DelFrisco’s steakhouse, and then brought her over here for a drink. That’s a big lawyer hang out. Not my scene. This guy didn’t do anything to help or comfort her when she had the seizure, and he didn’t go to the hospital with her. I don’t care if you just picked up the chick in a bar. Lady falls down, you go to the damn hospital with her. I’m thinking that weasel was married and didn’t want any problems. How would he explain to his wife that he was at the hospital with some other woman? I may be wrong, but I got the vibe something was definitely shady about that guy.

We go back to our seats at the bar and have another drink. Church is pissed because somebody was telling him to turn her head when she was foaming at the mouth and that’s not what you’re supposed to do. Me, I was just glad the lady was okay.

Daphne came over to chat and get a recap. I tell her what I know, and tease her.”You had to say it was a slow night and that nothing was happening, and look what you did, Daph…”

“I know, right? Me and my big mouth.”

Indeed…

 

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Sarika – Song of the Black Widow

God, she’s beautiful. I couldn’t find a stock picture on the internet to capture the delightful beauty of this girl. She is so pretty. Indian. Exotic. The type of beauty you’d almost pay for to be seen with at an event. She is probably one of the most beautiful women I know in Philly. But she recently reached out to me to come hang at a happy hour and a brand new place in Rittenhouse, called Scarpetta. Smith and Wolensky’s is gone and now that place is here. It’s in the Rittenhouse Hotel. She also mentioned that she wants me to come up to her apartment and check out her new place at the Dorchester. I am so glad I have reconnected with her. This vacuous she-devil is such a good character for this work. I am a huge fan of lovely Sarika.

I got to Scarpetta around 5:30. They’ve done a nice job with the place. It’s dark and intimate. The bar looks the same but they’ve opened up the place a bit. There’s only the one bar, but they have a lounge in the back and there is a dining room upstairs. I look around for Sarika but I don’t see her. I’m chatting with the manager and then I look out the window and see her walking towards the building.

Sarika looks amazing as always. We grab a couple of drinks at the bar and sit in this cool little area by ourselves near the window. Rittenhouse Square looks beautiful. It’s all decorated for the holidays.There are strings of bulbs in the trees and the whole park twinkle with light. She is having some sort of light pink beverage that I didn’t catch the name of, and I’m having the old-fashioned. Normally, cocktails are around fifteen dollars, but during happy hour they’re half price. So that’s something I can live with for now.

I ask her what she’s been up to and she says she’s been going on a lot of dates. Turns out that weasel she wanted to bring to my eighty dollar a plate New Years party last year has been gone for a while. I remember she was so into that guy. Apparently they were together off and on for two years. She says she wasted her best years on him and now she’s old. She’s 28! Come on Sarika, you are still but a child. She said he was a jerk to her and probably never loved her. I get her laughing, and start thinking that the black widow isn’t so bad after all. She may be smart as a whip, but she’s still a young woman navigating her way through love and life. I even joke that she probably has a blood-red hour-glass tattooed on her belly.

I do love pretty things, and she is no exception.

I tell her she looks great as always. She has been in some sunny destinations lately, so her skin is a darker brown than normal. I like it. It makes her look even more mysterious and exotic. I mention it and she immediately asks if I think it looks ugly. She always says things like that. She is so smart but so immature at the same time. She’s also a bit of a chatterbox. I think most men can’t handle that and don’t like a girl who talks too much. I don’t mind it. I like a girl who has things to say and experiences to share. I love to talk and entertain a woman, so it’s nice when I have a chatty girl so I don’t have to do all of the work. Women like a good listener and I grew up with three sisters. But what I can’t stand is what Carol used to do. Just babbling on nonstop like a tire spinning in the snow. (See: Carol 5/2014 to 8/2016 – There’s No Fun In Dysfunction)

I once read that women speak up to 20,000 words a day, compared to men, who speak only 12,000. So when we get home…We’re done!

It is puzzling how a woman this strikingly beautiful can’t keep a man. But the more you’re around her the more it makes sense. She says she’s been finding men on an app called J Swipe. It’s like Tinder for Jews. I asked her why that app? She said Jewish men normally appreciate women more, have good jobs, and have money. Sounds like she’s hunting for a husband. I think one of the challenges Sarika is facing is that she may be viewed more as a conquest. A creature to be captured and checked off of some list, because she’s so beautifully exotic.

She said she went out with a guy on Monday and even had a date with a pilot after our happy hour. So I assume I won’t be getting a tour of that gorgeous apartment in her building tonight. Sarika has a very busy life. She travels a great deal for her job as a scientist. I know she was formerly an engineer, but now I guess she’s a scientist. She makes great money and spends her other free time hopping on planes and taking little trips. It sounds like a fun life with all of the dating, and jet setting vacations, but it almost seems like she doesn’t want to be alone in her apartment. She’s crazy dating now. It’s good that she’s getting out there and meeting people after two years wasted with weasel man. But again, I can see men wanting her because she’s so beautiful, but she’s kind of annoying to talk to for any length of time. So if they get the opportunity to sleep with her they may not stick around.

Sarika is very intelligent and a nerd. I have taken her to Science after Hours at the Franklin Institute in the past. She loved it like a child. We went to see Jurassic World last summer, and Guardians of the Galaxy is her favorite movie. If my friend Duncan finds that up he’ll probably move up here from North Carolina. You would think guys would find that hot. A pretty girl who likes guy stuff and sci-fi, but it hasn’t worked. Maybe one of these many men that she is meeting for dates, will be rich and just marry her as a trophy wife. But sadly, people are funny about race in this country. They may want to sleep with a hot girl, but they may not want to bring and Indian woman back home to meet the family. I personally I have nothing against it. If you have been reading this blog, you know I love all different kinds of women. As Hank Moody says in the show Californication, “I got all your albums. I love you all and you and you included, Sarika.”

My buddy Church shows up at Scarpetta. I’m happy to see him. Once Sarika  goes on her date at One Tippling Place up the street, he and I can go to Square 1682 and have a drink. Church knows everybody in the restaurant and bar business in this town, so when he orders a drink and the server brings it over, she says, “This one is on Nathan.” He’s the GM there so Church got the hook up. I get another drink, but Sarika is only having the one so she doesn’t show up drunk for her date at 7:00.

While I was waiting at the bar to get my drink, Church chatted with Sarika. I was a little glad that it took the bartender a little time to get to me and make my drink. Normally I don’t like that, but I thought it would give Church a chance to talk to Sarika.

I get back to our little area by the window. We all chat a bit more. Sarika has to go soon, so she heads back to the ladies room. Church tells me she wouldn’t stop talking and it was driving him crazy. He’s been on edge lately, and listening to Sarika go on about something was annoying him. He said something to the effect, “I wanted to put a gun in my mouth.” He said she is so vacuous and self-absorbed and all she talked about was herself.

He once said that about another attractive girl who talked a lot. He was in a car with her and she was talking non stop and he said, “I wanted to leap right out of the car while it was going 70 miles per hour down the highway.”

Sarika returns, and I put her coat on for her. I tell her I will pay for the one drink she had. She tells me she’ll get me next time. I give her a kiss on the cheek good-bye and she’s off. I get the bill for my two old-fashioneds and her dainty drink. It should come to over $22 plus tax. I look at it and it’s only $15. So I got the hookup because I was with Church.

Dude certainly has the power.

I think next we’ll do a happy hour with my friend Carly.  So the night went well and again without incident.

So maybe my pretty little arachnid is finally growing up.

I love Sarika. She is beautiful, and I enjoy her company, if nobody else does, and I can’t wait to see her again.

(Oh… and if you’ve somehow found this and other stories Sarika, I’ll understand if you cut me off. The truth always hurts more than fiction)

 

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Church – Brand Ambassador

I was working for alcohol based magazine a few years ago. I sold advertising into the publication. They had been around for about three years.

We would attend these events to meet representatives from different brands. We hoped it would lead to more advertising. There was this one guy, that had a big presence, and a booming voice. His presentations for the products he was representing were always lively and interesting. My boss at the time told me that he was someone I should meet. Which I proceeded to do.

I met with him on several occasions. I could tell he genuinely wanted to help me. He knew everybody in the industry. You couldn’t walk in place without someone talking to him. He started inviting me out to events. I remember once I was out pounding the pavements and he saw me. He got out of his car, popped his trunk and handed me a bottle of Black Grouse. No reason at all. “You’re always out here working.” He said.

He’s given me so many great bottles of booze as gifts. And again, he does it for no reason. Real giving. He’ll just hand you a fifth of something because he likes you.

I remember two years ago when I was struggling with my then girlfriend, (Future series: Annabelle) Annabelle was younger that I was, and just giving me fits because she was being a selfish asshole. Or as I call it, ‘a girl in her twenties’. We we’re at some meeting, and Church pulls me aside, and says: “I can see you’re suffering. Let’s get out of here.”

We get in his car and he drives me down to a gentleman’s club on Columbus Blvd. He ordered me food, and said as long as I drank the brand he was representing, it was free! He handed me a $20 and sent me in the back with a pretty dancer for a private lap dance. Like I said before, I’m not really into the whole lap dance thing, but the whole experience was so thoughtful and really cheered me up. I made up with Annabelle the next day, by the way. But that’s just how Church is. If he has it, he’ll always share it with you.

We’ve grown close over the last few years. He lives out in Westchester, which isn’t near Philly, but whenever he’s in town working, we’ll meet up. We have confided in each other when we were struggling with different things life has hurtled at us. Employment. Wife stuff. Ex-wife stuff. People we’ve met. Things that have happened. We’ve been there for each other to talk whoever is on the ledge down from it.

Church has a good heart. He’s a very generous and decent man. He has been married for over 8 years and I think he’s known his wife even longer than that. Sometimes he gets a little hot about people being assholes, but who doesn’t?   I wanted to introduce Church to you all because he will be making several ongoing appearances in this story.

Did I mention that he’s awesome?

 

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 Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on TuesdaysWednesdays at 9am EST.

 

Michelle – Chapter 6 – The Wishing Stone

I had been growing frustrated with what was going on between me, Michelle and Delaware Dave. Something had to give. She was with me Monday through Friday, every day. Weekends she was trying to put her relationship back on track with him. That, and of course the annoying, disruptive phone calls from him to her when we were out at night. No matter what we were doing, everything would just come to a screeching halt, and she’d have to take his call whenever the whim struck him. Just youthful nonsense and insecurity.

I consider myself a man of science. I’m sure life itself is a miracle and there are some metaphysical things out there, but most things can be explained by science and mathematics. But when you’re in love, you sometimes can do some crazy shit. Your brain is firing some mad chemicals through your body. I had been reaching a breaking point with her, but didn’t know what to do. So one day I was at my wit’s end and I decided to turn to some darker forces. I know this is going to sound nuts, but I really did this.

It was a Friday in the Spring of 2008. Early May. Weather was a warm and it was a sunny day. I was out making sales calls. I had made my way down to South Street. I came upon Harry’s Occult Shop. I went in and started looking around. I have a friend who is Wiccan and she believes a lot of this stuff. I also know a few younger women that are into all of the magic stones and crystals stuff. Like I said, I’m a student of science. I can’t imagine what all of this stuff does. A very nice lady came up to me and asked if she could help me. I literally told her my dilemma with Michelle. Some how I have been pulled into this store. She was very sweet and took what was happening to me very seriously. Apparently this is quite common, and they are good at this sort of thing.

The first thing we looked at were different crystals. I picked up this sort of translucent pinkish colored stone. The lady says: “Great. It chose you.” Very smooth. I started rubbing the stone with my thumb and index finger. “Okay, what’s next?” I say.  She gives me this nice smelling oil in a little orange bottle. She says to wear it like a cologne and also rub it on the stone in my pocket. I should rub the stone and say Michelle’s name. I should also rub the stone when I’m talking to Michelle or when I am near her.  That’s great. Reach in your pocket and rub a hard object when you’re talking to Michelle. That won’t look weird at all.

Then she gave me this plastic bottle of a special body wash. I’m supposed to use this every day until it’s gone. Thing is, the liquid inside appears to be black or grey. It didn’t really appear to look like something you should be washing your whole body with, but who am I to question these occult wizards?

I ask if there is anything else, or is that it, and she says she has one more thing for me. She reaches up on a high shelf and hands me a tall glass candle. She says this is some sort of love spell candle. the glass is red and the candle is white. On the glass that holds the candle there are two white hearts they are connected. She tells me that when I get home tonight, I have to write Michelle’s name and my name in the little hearts. Then I’m supposed to light the candle and burn it continuously for as long as possible. I ask if I can blow it out when I leave the house so I don’t create a fire hazard at my apartment, and she says that’s okay.

So I buy all of this stuff. It came to around $40 or so. She bags it up and I head back to the office. I dab a few drops of the oil onto the stone and on my neck and forearms. I reach the building and go up the elevator to our floor. I have to get my bag of goodies in quickly and stash it under my desk so I don’t become the laughing stock of my department. I see Michelle and chat briefly managing to get a few rubs of my stone in without being noticed.

When I got home that night, I set up my candle in the corner of the room. I took out a sharpie marker and wrote my name and hers on the hearts. Apparently this is supposed to bring our energy together, and drive a wedge of bad energy between Michelle and Dave.

Over the weekend, and all the way up to Monday morning I burned the candle and wore the oil and kept my little stone oiled up as well. Each morning I bathed using the black body wash. It wasn’t awful. It didn’t smell bad. It just looked dirty because all of this black stuff would be circling the drain. But it didn’t seem to discolor my skin at all.

I went into work on Monday and it was business as usual. I had burned the love spell candle all weekend long. I had my stone with me, and had freshly showered in the body wash from the river Styx. So I was ready. By the time 5 pm came, I decided to do something different. Instead of leaving with her, like I always did. (I was fed up waiting for her to figure out what she wanted.) I simply got up from my chair and walked down the hall to the elevators.

Michelle nearly ran up behind me. She hadn’t even change out of her heels into her flats. I was a bit surprised at her behavior. “Aren’t you even going to wait for me?” she exclaimed. I sort of acted like I hadn’t thought of it, but I had. So we left together and did our usual “walk her home every night” routine. We were chatting about some general things. We were at the corner in front of the GSK World Headquarters. Right where the Freedom sculpture is.

You can see it here: http://www.mymodernmet.com/profiles/blogs/sculpture-breaks-free

I love this sculpture, because I love the idea of breaking free of ones bounds whether it be physical or mental. That’s never easy to do, but this work really captures the spirit of changing your life and not being chained to your past. Of all places for the next thing to occur…

She turns to me and says: “Can I ask you a question?” I’m like; “Sure.” She asks me if I were in a relationship with someone, and they had dated or had a relationship with a black person in the past, would I have a problem of that? I told her that answer was an easy one. I had a black girlfriend when I lived in Los Angeles in the early 80’s, and also another black girlfriend when I lived in New York before I moved back to Philly. You can’t be anymore non-racist than that. I told her I love all women. I have all they’re albums. All shapes, sizes and colors. That’s what makes life beautiful. The differences in people. (As you will see in this blog my deeds speak the truth more than my words)  I asked her if Delaware Dave had a problem with her having been intimate with that black guy Tyrell in the past. She said he did. Maybe he called her a nigger lover or something. (Which I find abhorrent) But whatever had happened over the weekend it wasn’t good.

We discussed it further for a bit, but I knew. That had been the deal breaker. Maybe not a life long deal breaker. People can change. They can have different views about things. They mature and sometimes learn to forgive. They can even simply settle. But it looked like for now the whole reconciliation with Dave was off the table.

I called my friend Vicky who is the Wiccan and told her the crazy ritual I had performed, and what the outcome had been. Her response as a white witch was appropriate and hilarious. “Do not ever do that again! You don’t know what dark forces you’re fucking with! Why didn’t you consult me first!?”

Did it work? I’m not going to question any of it. If it got Michelle to be with me, it was the best $40 I had ever spent. So technically some thing worked. Maybe it was all simply in the timing. Like Shakespeare’s Hamlet says to Horatio: “There are more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Oh, and that little magic pink stone that I rubbed for luck 9 years ago?

I was just looking at it this morning in the little wooden box on my desk.

 

 

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

Sun Stories: Olivia – Flirt – Part I

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I work part-time at a spa. The spa owner was an advertising client of mine for about nine months. I’d go to his place of business every week to drop off proofs and chat with him. He was always complaining about his staff, which was basically a bunch of irresponsible chuckleheads. Or as I call them teenagers and kids in their early twenties. I told him that I like to stay busy and his clientele was easy on the eyes. All attractive, fit women. I started working a couple of nights a week and then people left and some got let go, and I ended up working 5 to 8 every night and Sundays 11-4.  It’s easy work, the clients are nice and the cash flow is good.

We close every night at 8pm. Last session is 7:45. If anyone comes in after that we can’t help them because then we literally won’t get out of there until after 8:30. But in stumbles this really beautiful young blonde girl at the stroke of 8pm. She’s a little tipsy and apologizes profusely that she’s arriving late. Saying she was walking around Harbor Park earlier that evening. The weather is warm and Harbor Park is a great spot to hang in the summer. On a side note, named one of the best places to visit in Philadelphia by national press, Spruce Street Harbor Park presented by Univest/Valley Green Bank features colorful hammocks, floating gardens, beautiful lights, refreshing craft beer, and food from popular Philly restaurants, making it a summer gathering space for locals and visitors alike. It’s open May through September.

Anyway, obviously I give in because I can’t say no to a pretty face. There’s the rules and then there’s hot chicks. Let’s face it. If you’re beautiful, you get the hook up everywhere you go. It’s just the way life is. I tell her I have to mop and fold some towels, so it’s okay that she’s here now. She has big, bright flashing blue eyes and extraordinary naturally long eyelashes. Her hair is like ribbons of flax. She is slender and all of 22. Very sweet and charming and of German decent. I know she went to Temple but not what she studied or if she still goes there or has her degree. I do know that this lovely girl works as a bartender and sometimes hostess at a bar in Fishtown.

Olivia thanks me and goes back for her session. I am taken by her beauty. I settle the register, fold some towels and mop out the rooms. When she comes out she is in a low-cut black cocktail dress and heels. She looks stunning! I don’t know where this outfit came from but she must have had it in her bag. Probably heading out to the club with her girls. She thanks me again for letting her get a session in at the last minute. I’m so smitten with her, she could have pounded on the door at 8:15 and I would have let her in. In my heart I wish I were going with her to wherever that destination may be, but alas it is not to be.

I walk back to wipe up and mop the floor of that room. I pick up the towel from the little table and there curled up is a delicate little necklace with the letter “O” on it. I have a reason to contact her now! Or…did she leave it behind for me to retrieve it knowing I would have to call her and she would have to come back? No. I’m imaging things. She doesn’t give a crap about me. What am I thinking? Creating scenarios that don’t exist in my head. Desire does some strange things to the mind. It’s like I’m some sort of beauty addict. My father always said I liked beautiful things. Apparently beauty is nothing more than symmetry. But I believe it’s something more. Much more.

I pull up her account on the system up at the counter. I grab the house phone and dial her number. It rings and rings, and then goes to her voicemail. I take a deep breath as I hear her sweet voice. I leave a message that states who I am and the salon, and that I found her necklace in the room she was in. I tell her it will be in a baggie with her name on it, safely locked in the drawer behind the counter. I hang up. I want her to know that I care enough to call and I have her necklace and its super safe and she can get it anytime. I hold the chain of this delicate piece of jewelry between my index finger and thumb. The gold “O” spins, twinkling in the light. Just like her lovely blue eyes.

Unfortunately she comes in to pick up her necklace on a night I wasn’t working. I can’t control that but I knew because the next night I worked the baggie was gone. I would have liked to have seen her and received the accolades and attention, but no dice.

Some weeks later I was walking towards the counter from cleaning one of the rooms in back and she comes through the door. Looking amazing of course. My heart leaps. She goes: “There’s the man of the hour!” Comes up and hugs me. Her hair smells like Heaven. “Sorry I’m a little sweaty.” she says. (Like I care about that.) “Thank you so much for finding my necklace! My mother gave that to me. I have like two them, and this has happened twice already! Crazy right?” I love this delicious little fraulein. We send her back to the room and go about our business. When she comes out as she’s leaving she sweetly blows me a kiss, which is wonderful, but I have to assume she does this to everybody. I’m not getting my hopes up in any form.

You know what’s weird though? If you’ve been reading these stories for a while you’ll notice that I don’t like that the wallets have not been coming out as of late. It’s 2017! Going out is expensive! What’s wrong with these women? I notice the feminists want equality but when it comes to dinner and drinks it’s the 1950’s again. Anyway, the point I make is moot if it were to come to a date with Olivia. I would completely lay down and pay for everything just to have the honor of sitting in a restaurant with this gorgeous, slender legged beauty. Yea. Total 180 for Olivia. Just slap down the credit card. Yep…I’m an idiot.

Go Team PhicklePhilly!

 

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 Non-Dating related characters, such as male and female friends, on TuesdaysWednesdays at 9am EST.