Hello phicklephilly followers. This is Maria’s story about what happened to her dating her boss.
I have the greatest respect for my my muse that inspired phicklphilly. I am just happy just to have lunch with her, but here is her tale of one of her romantic encounters.
We’ll leave it at that. I’m honored the one woman that inspired me to finally start writing again after 10 years was cool enough to share with me a dating story.
I think what this guy did to Maria is really shitty. Sad how one man’s inspiration can be another man’s folly.
This week, we have Kristin* (Who is my Maria the muse that inspired me to write phicklephilly) who was ghosted by one of the owners of the restaurant she works at after they’d been seeing each other for a month: Hmmm… where should I begin? I had started a new waitressing gig in Philly, and I was super excited abou…
— Read on www.elitedaily.com/dating/ghosted-dating-month-boss/1807692
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
After my successful coffee meet up a few weeks ago with my muse. I told her to come in for a tanning session before she goes to Florida.
“Thanks for meeting me for coffee today. It was great seeing you! I’ll get you a link to my blog. See you Saturday!”
“Yesss coffee was good. Thanks! See ya then! Send me the addy so I don’t get lost lol.”
I send her the link to my blog. This is so exciting. The girl who inspired me to write again will get to read about herself on the very platform that she inspired!
Saturday rolls around and I’m working at the salon.
“What time are you in today?”
“11 to 5”
I love that Maria is coming in to tan. She comes in and we chit-chat. It’s always great to see her and talk to my muse. She wants to get a base for her trip to Florida. She buys a 5 pack which is great because she can do a couple of sessions before her trip and use the rest to maintain her color when she gets back. (And I get to see her 4 more times!)
She does her session and heads out. I figure that would be it. She’d pop in occasionally and brighten my day. I was satisfied just having coffee with her last week. Just to reconnect with her and actually hang out with her was brilliant.
But a few weeks pass and I’m sitting at my desk at home writing. It was probably around midnight when her text comes in.
“Hey Charles, I know you said you don’t do social media. Not sure if you keep up with the news but the restaurant where I work is closed down for a few months due to the fire next door. We are not only taking money donations but any donation to be raffled would be raffled would be greatly appreciated.”
Of course I’m going to spring into action. Maria needs my help!
“I read about the fire in the news and immediately thought of you. What can we do to help? What will you do financially? Are you available to meet up to discuss this week?”
“Def sucks. I’m waiting to hear back from a couple of places. Anything honestly. We can since I have so much time now.”
“Alright. I’m going to hit up all my contacts up to get you some shifts. Can you meet up on Monday at noon?”
“Yea I’ll take anything. I babysat tonight. Just trying to be optimistic. Yeah I can do that.”
“I’ve placed a few friends in jobs. I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll start making calls tomorrow. Meet me at Cavanaugh’s Rittenhouse Monday at noon.”
“Sounds like a plan. They are actually donating to the raffle.”
“Okay I’ll talk to my partner at the salon as well. Come in and tan if you want today. I’ll be there from 11 to 4, if not see you Monday at Cav’s. I’m sure we can find you something!”
“Awesome. I really hate asking for any help honestly. I’m going to Chop tomorrow to visit my relative, but yea def Monday. Thanks again Charles!”
“I’m on it. I’ll call everybody I know in the hospitality industry to help you. No worries.”
The next day I send her a bunch of names and places she can apply. She’s very grateful. I tell her not to worry if some of the spots I send her are places she’s not interested in. She can pick and choose what places she thinks she’d like work. I’ll just keep sending. I’m just happy to help her.
Monday I’m sitting at my table in the back of Cavanaugh’s. Maria rolls in and as usual I am delighted to see her.
Maria always looks beautiful.
I feel bad for her misfortune but it wasn’t anything she did that’s put her in this predicament. The building next door to where she works burned down! It may be months before they open again.
I order my usual Monday special the 1/2 off cheese steak. Maria goes with the turkey burger.
We talk about her current situation. I tell her I’ll keep asking around to all of my contacts in the industry. I also tell her that I’ll get her a gift card to the salon that she can raffle off. She’s happy about that. She’s really been working hard to raise money for their event.
I ask her when it is and she tells me they are having it on Sunday. I tell her I can’t attend because I have to work that day. But if she sends me the link to where I can buy a ticket, I’ll purchase one just to make a donation to support her cause.
Maria is stressed about being three months away from graduating from college with her degree in Marketing, and now she has to find another server job to pay the bills. There’s also her relative that’s in Children’s Hospital. That and her own stomach disorders. Poor thing!
I can relate with all my stomach disorders. So at least we have that in common and can discuss our challenges.
She tells me more about this guy that’s she’s dating. He’s one of the managing partners of the restaurant where she worked. Okay, I know they say never shit where you eat, or don’t dip your pen in the company’s ink. But we’ve all done it. You spend a great deal of your waking hours with your co-workers. You all have a common goal and share the same mission in your daily lives. It’s very common for there to be workplace romance.
But an owner and a server? That doesn’t sit right with me. He has the power to fire her at anytime. I’m not saying that would happen. But she’s entered into a romantic relationship that if it goes badly, could put her in the unemployment line.
There’s no harassment suit because she entered into that relationship as a willing partner.
But it’s none of my business. She’s an adult and a survivor. She’s tough and she’ll figure it out. I respect that about her.
Then she tells me an interesting story. She said she wrote in to some online publication about her relationship with this gentleman. They actually changed her name to ‘Kristen” and published it. She wants to share it with me.
I get really excited at the prospect of publishing the story on Phicklephilly. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve posted a dating story by one of my followers on this blog. But not by my muse! Not a dating story by the girl who inspired me to create this blog. That’s internet gold to me. I’m honored to publish something Maria wrote!
So if she sends me the link, I’ll post it in the next installment of this little saga.
After lunch, (Of course I pay, and I really want to because my friend is not working. Girl’s gotta eat!) we walk along Sansom street. I’m looking at her, with the tawny highlights in her luxurious dark mane. I’m listening to her words and I’m happy just to be walking down the street with Maria.
She’s going to stop in at Harp and Crown and see if they’re hiring. I’ve got to get to the salon. We promise to text later about what we spoke about and I wish her luck.
We hug and off she goes. I turn and head down 16th street. I light a post lunch/Maria encounter celebratory cig and smile in the afternoon sun.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
We hired a girl named Caitlin to take Jill’s shifts. She’s a nice girl and does a good job, but she runs track and field at college and her schedule for practices is changing so we lost her after a few weeks.
Achilles meets this guy Mike. He came into the salon to tan one day. He’s a mountain of a man. Admits to Achilles that he uses steroids to get that huge.
Achilles is chatting with him about the fitness center we’re opening soon and Mike tells him he’s a certified personal trainer. So Achilles hires him to work at the salon, and when the gym opens he can work there.
Perfect. A muscle dude that said he’d be here to run the classes and could make some real income from the personal training. People pay big bucks for that stuff. This is a great opportunity for Mike.
I stop in one Saturday just to escape the heat. I chat a bit with Mike and he seems like a really nice guy. I even spoke to him about a business opportunity I was thinking about and he gave me good advice having had experience in a similar business. So all good.
Everything seems to be going well. We’ve recovered nicely after Trish’s cocaine arrest, Jill’s alcoholic meltdown, and Caitlin’s track re-scheduling.
But two weeks later, Achilles calls me. “I’m going to have to fire, Mike.”
“What happened?”
“He’s stealing money from me.”
“Stealing?”
“Yea. There’s almost no cash transactions on the nights he works and I’m just starting to see a pattern. I don’t think he knows the level at which we can track everything on the computer.”
“Aww dude. I’m sorry. We just can’t catch a break lately.”
“I know. Come in and we’ll have lunch today and figure out what to do.”
The next day when confronted with the crime, of course Mike denied any wrong doing to the point where Achilles almost believed him. But once Achilles dug deeper and examined all of the records in the system there was no doubt in his mind that Mike had been skimming cash from the register.
I hear that steroids are expensive.
Anyway, we fired his thieving ass and banned him from ever coming to the salon again.
Guess who’s working all the shifts everyday for a while?
That’s right! Me. At least Achilles and I know that the people who work here are trustworthy and dependable. Because it’s down to the two of us!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!
Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!
I come home from work the other day, and Trish is in my living room chatting with my daughter Lorelei.
I’ve cooled to Trish since her arrest, but my daughter likes her and they hang out sometimes at the house. Trish lives in the apartment below us, so I need to be civil.
Trish is telling the story of her cocaine arrest to Lorelei. How she got a small fine, has to attend some classes and has to do community service. I guess its because it was her first offense and she doesn’t have a record.
“Yea, it’s been a wake up call for me.”
“Well that’s good.”
“My community service is over at the senior center helping the old folks. I really like them!”
“Maybe you’ve found your calling.”
“How is Jill making out at the salon?”
“We fired her.”
“What happened?”
“One day she was supposed to work and she didn’t show up.”
“Wow. I just saw her earlier in the week. I was upset about my arrest and I went to the salon and then we went out together.”
“What did you guys end up doing?”
“Just went out for a few drinks. I wanted to go home after a couple but she said she was heading for another bar.”
“What? When was that?”
“Monday night. Why?”
“Oh my God. No….”
“What?”
“You were with Jill when she got blackout drunk and was subsequently kicked out of her sober halfway house!”
“What?”
“She didn’t show up for work at the salon the next day because she was looking for a place to live!”
“But she wasn’t drunk when she was with me.”
“But you said she left you and was headed to another bar. You were there that Saturday before when she was sitting in the salon and said, “I can’t just have one drink. I have to keep going and then I want to go out. I can’t stop.”
“Oh fuck. So I’m the catalyst that made her relapse?”
“Looks that way.”
“Shit.”
“Anyway, I’m going to go to my room and watch my show. I’ll be through for some ice periodically. Night girls.”
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!
Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!
It’s the Tuesday morning after the whole Saturday catastrophe. What was supposed to be Trish’s last day turned into me having to work her whole shift because she got locked up for cocaine possession.
I’m working at my desk when the phone rings. It’s Achilles. I’m thinking, what now?
He tells me he checked online about activity at the salon and there wasn’t any. It’s 11am. Normally he works during the day, but he asked Jill to take his shift this morning because he had some things he needed to do. He goes on to tell me that he called the salon and that there was no answer, and then he called Jill and asked her what was going on.
Her response was, “I’m looking for a place to live.”
Here we go again.
I spring into action and head to the salon. Looks like I’ll be working from whenever I can get the place open to closing today.
On the way there I’m thinking, if Trish had been able to contact Achilles or myself Saturday morning and said she couldn’t work we would have been fine with it. But she was in jail and probably didn’t have her phone on her. Don’t you get one phone call when you’re arrested? If she had gotten one call, that’s the one call she should have made. We wouldn’t have even cared if she had murdered somebody. Just let us know you can’t come in so we can cover your shift.
I wonder what happened with Jill? Couldn’t she have simply called or texted Achilles or myself that she wouldn’t be able to work today? We wouldn’t care if she was homeless, or even if she had murdered somebody. Just call or text Achilles or myself so we can cover your shift! This is the second incidence of this in the last three days!
I get to the salon and open the doors. There are several women sitting on the steps just like on Saturday. I tell them we’ve had some staffing challenges lately. I apologize for the late opening and tell them I’ll take care of them all and everybody gets to tan right now. Our clients for the most part are all really nice people.
I later find out from Achilles that Jill had gone out and gotten blackout drunk Monday night and was kicked out of the halfway house she was living in. So she’s relapsed with her alcoholism.
You are typically kicked out of a sober house when you relapse; but that doesn’t mean you can’t come back to the house or live in another one. If you’ve relapsed, then living in a halfway house is exactly what you need for your recovery right now. If you want to achieve sobriety, go to a halfway house and make a commitment there and don’t leave until you’ve finished it and are sober!
If you or a loved one are struggling with substance abuse or addiction, please call toll-free 1-800-951-6135.
Poor Jill. She was doing such a good job at the salon. I hope she gets the professional help she needs to be okay.
But… If you don’t show up for work, we have to fire you. So Jill has gone the way of Trish. Now we have to find someone else.
But the story isn’t over yet…
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!
Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!
Trish lasted almost a year here at the salon. But she’s so unstable she can’t do the job anymore. I hope she gets the professional help she needs to deal with her mental psychosis.
We end up hiring Jill to work at the salon. At this point Achilles doesn’t know about the incident with Trish. Jill has industry experience and catches on quickly and is happy to have a job. She’s sweet to the customers and is up for any task in the salon. Being a former client, she’s happy to now enjoy the benefits of free tanning!
I really get to know her and she seems to have had a difficult life based on some bad decisions. I also discover that she’s had some real problems with alcohol. She’s currently living in a halfway house with some other women in recovery. I don’t know what she did to get there but at least she’s trying to get better.
Halfway Houses are transitional living places for those in recovery from drugs or alcohol. In some states, because of legal requirements, the term “sober living house” is used. Some people go to halfway houses from a treatment center, prison, or a homeless situation, while others go there to be in a sober and clean environment to begin the recovery process. Some residents are in halfway houses due to court orders.
Most halfway houses require residents to pass breathalyzer and drug screening tests as they aren’t equipped to deal with withdrawal symptoms from drugs or the DT’s (Delirium tremens, which are associated with severe alcohol withdrawal). If you can’t pass these tests, a treatment center might be your best option.
How a Halfway House is Managed
Many halfway houses are run by people who themselves were at one time a halfway house resident. The houses accommodate either men or women.
Most people who don’t seek recovery from alcohol or drugs will end up on “skid row,” in jail, an insane asylum, or dead. If you are concerned about a friend or family member, an intervention can be the best help for them if they’re not yet in recovery. The good news is that 85% of interventions that are properly carried out result in the person seeking some kind of help. Most interventions carried out without help from people well versed in addiction fail.
Determining the Primary Addiction
In seeking recovery from drugs or alcohol, it is important to identify which is the primary addiction — alcohol or drugs. Due to economics, halfway houses are set up to house both alcoholics and drug addicts. In order to obtain optimal results, the person in recovery should focus on either the program of Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous, depending on what the primary addiction is. A person who is addicted to alcohol will relate better to AA and the person addicted primarily to drugs will relate better to fellow drug addicts.
How to Choose a Halfway House
In choosing a Halfway House, ask around local AA or NA meetings about those with good reputations, or check with a respected treatment center. Also, choose one that is reasonably near the meetings you will be attending. Most halfway houses accommodate residents until 6 months to a year or two of continuous sobriety or clean time. Houses that have a range or recovery time for people currently residing at the house, such as someone with one month, 90 days, and 6 months are preferable to one with all residents with under 30 days in recovery. Also, those with a live-in manager are generally better choices. Some houses have a democratic process, in which the residents choose who will be coordinator or manager.
I hope everything works out with Jill on our team!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!
Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!
When we last left our hero he was forced to go in and run the salon after Trish simply didn’t show up for work. He had plans with Cherie after 3pm that day and needed to do some chores to prepare for her arrival. But Because of Trish’s disappearing act, he now had to change his plans. He was working at the salon when suddenly Trish burst through the front door.
“I’m so sorry…”
She’s visibly upset on the verge of tears. She runs to me and hugs me.
“What happened?”
“I was arrested last night.”
“What? How? Why?”
“Well, I’ve been feeling kind of fucked up lately in my life. I used to do a lot of coke when I was in college and I just felt like I needed a lift to do some artwork I was working on.”
(Sounds like my buddy, Johnny R. He has all of these thoughts in his head but feels like he needs to drink, do coke and/or do some Adderall to put pen to page. When in reality, he’s not much different than Trish. You don’t need any of that shit to create. You just need to create everyday. But neither of them can focus long enough to make anything of any significant value because they don’t do it consistently. Simple as that.)
“So what did you do?”
I called this hot black guy I met at Ray’s Birthday Bar a few weeks ago. I asked him if he had anything and he said come down to where he was. Normally I would ask the person to deliver it to my house so I didn’t have to go somewhere that I’m unfamiliar with.”
“So then what happened and why did you break your rule?”
“Because he was really good looking.”
“Ahh… Trish yields to beauty! I can relate. So then what?”
“I ride my bike down to where he is and he tells me he has to go in some bar and get it. He asks me to come in but I tell him I’ll wait outside. After a bit, he comes out and we make the exchange.”
“So what happened next?”
“He goes back inside the bar and I start pedaling home on my bike and some guy gets out of his car and tells me to stop.”
“Was he dressed like a policeman?”
“No. But you could tell he was a cop. You just know. I’m like… What the fuck? The dude shows me his badge and they place me under arrest for conspiracy to commit a crime and possession of an illegal controlled substance.
“Whoa…”
“Yea, they also pinch the dude I bought it from. Apparently it’s his second offense so he’ll probably get sent up the river for three to five.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on some TV cop show?”
“So that’s where I’ve been for the last eighteen hours. In the can.”
“That sucks. This was supposed to be your last day here too. I’ve already taken your shift. You’re probably in no shape to work today.”
“Yea. Is it okay if I just hang out and help a bit?”
“Sure.”
“Then I’m going to go get my bike. I’ll probably UBER down to South Philly later and retrieve it… if it’s still there.”
So Trish cleaned a few beds, and later left to get her bicycle. She returned saying that she was happy the bike hadn’t been stolen or vandalized and that this had been a wake up call for her. She did some sweeping at the end of the shift and she an I walked back to our building in Rittenhouse.
I felt bad for Trish, although Achilles would later simply call her an asshole or a crackhead for not showing up for her shift and not calling or texting. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time Friday night. Think of how much cocaine was bought and sold and consumed last night in this city. She hadn’t bought coke since she was in college. Here she was at nearly 28 years old and gets pinched the first time she tries to get some again.
She took several Saturday’s off and I covered her shifts when she was shooting a pilot for a TV show. It was supposed to be a reality show about hot girls searching for the paranormal in Gettysburg, PA. That sounds like a load of shit, but if Trish were on a show and she was wearing hot outfits, I’d watch it.
But the pilot got made and the actors never got paid, and to me it was a waste of time. The purveyors got their pilot done and got free help to be in it. They will shop it around to some networks and if it never gets picked up that’ll be the end of it. Trish never sees a dime and is actually out more money because she took time off from work and the costs associated with getting to and from Gettysburg.
Now she’ll have a criminal record. I’m sure for a first offense she’ll get a slap on the hand, a fine, and have to take some NA classes but that’ll be it. Maybe she can even get it expunged from her record in the future.
Trish didn’t want me to write about this, but it happened. It happened on her very last day at the salon. She blew it with a single bad decision. I’m simply writing about what happened on the day I was supposed to be off and spend time with my beloved. My girlfriend who I never get to see as much as I would like to and had to tell Cherie to push back our union. No, you can’t come and see me at 3pm. I don’t care what arrangements you’ve had to make with your family, your job or your son, because Trish fucked up. But when people make bad decisions they never realize how it will affect the people around them. That’s why they are who they and why they are where they are in their lives. I need to leave those people behind to wallow in their failure.
Trish still can come to the apartment and hang with my daughter, Lorelei, and I’ll be civil. But she fucked me and Achilles and the salon. And for that, we are done with her.
But the saga is not over yet.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Buy Phicklephilly THE BOOK now available on Amazon!
Listen to the Phicklephilly podcast LIVE on Spotify!
“Today was supposed to be her last day at the salon and no one knows where she is.”
It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen my love, Cherie. But we’re accustomed to that with what our schedules are. We appreciate what little time we can spend together. We make every minute count.
Cherie planned to come down on Saturday around 3pm and stay until 8:30am Sunday morning. I thought this was good, because I could at least have dinner with her or take her out somewhere, before we went back to the bat cave and tore each other to pieces.
I wake up Saturday morning. I stayed up late the night before because I knew it was my first day off in a while and I wanted to sleep in. I could take myself out to a nice breakfast, put some fresh sheets on the bed, prepare my bedroom for the inevitable and run some errands before Cherie arrived at 3pm.
I’m lying in bed and I look at my phone. Achilles had called. Achilles also texted me.
“Do you know if Trish went to work?”
(Okay, Trish is my neighbor who lives in the apartment below me. I got her the job at the salon, but how in the hell am I supposed to know if she went to work today?)
“I’m assuming she did.”
I text Trish. “Hey can you see if I left my charger there? It would be plugged in under the counter.”
(That was just a ruse to see if she was there. I didn’t want her to think I was checking up on her.)
Achilles: “No answer at the salon.”
Me: “Fuck.”
“I’ll head over there now. But I’ll need about 30 minutes.”
I jump out of bed and into the shower. I’m dressed and out the door 30 minutes later. I speed walk over to the salon and when I get there I see four people sitting on the steps and the salon is locked and dark. One of them is the new girl I’ve been training, Jill.
I tell everybody I’m sorry for the today’s delay, but I can get them all in to tan right now. Jill is obviously upset. She had just come in to tan when she saw the place was locked. It’s nearly 1pm now. We’ve lost 2 hours worth of business, and there’s been no word from Trish.
“I was so worried when I texted you and didn’t hear anything.” Jill said.
“I wouldn’t have heard my phone, Jill. I was rushing to get over here to see what happened.”
I get everybody, including Jill, into their respective rooms to tan. I’ve got everything under control. But still no word from Trish. I roll with the notion of what’s happened around in my mind. I no longer consider Trish a friend. I tried that but I can’t take the crazy, so I’ve stopped hanging out with her. But she’s a sweet person and she comes up to the apartment all of the time and hangs out with my daughter, Lorelei. So I decide that whatever circumstances have caused Trish to miss work I’m not going to be angry, because I don’t want it to be weird when she comes over to see my daughter, or worse I don’t want her to feel bad that she can’t come up to the apartment anymore.
Trish has been expressing for the last two months that she’s tired of working in customer service. She’s a 27-year-old graphic artist. I think her own mind is what’s been holding her back from getting and keeping a real job in her field of endeavor. Which is sad. Here you have all of this talent and it’s being squandered on a daily basis. I can actually smell her talent being sledgehammered by the familiar stench of marijuana smoke that I experience everyday as it wafts up through the floor into my apartment. Morning and at night. (So she’s using to simply get through each day instead of for fun. If you want to use to create that’s great, but if you use to just leave the house and deal with life, that’s a problem.
I like to drink. I love alcohol. But I do it at the end of the day, when all the work is done. Trish has to smoke weed just to leave the house everyday. That coupled with the oceans of coffee she drinks on a daily basis to cope with the dope. She really should be on some sort of cocktail of medication and in therapy at this point. It’s very clear to me.
Something that should be enjoyed and used as a treat has been a coping mechanism for her. It’s the same for the person that needs to take a drink in the morning to “take the edge” off the day. They’re called alcoholics.
Up till now I haven’t cared about her burning up her talent and watching it go up in a puff of smoke at the end of a joint. But I brought her into the salon. Now after a year she’s fucking up. That, or returning to her true self. When we hired her last year, the busy season was over. The job was easy then. But now we are being overwhelmed by the clients and business In general. You have to run the salon. You can’t let it run you. We’ve gotten a bad Yelp review recently because of her. Clients have complained of late openings and a bad attitude around closing. Trish shouldn’t work with the general public. She can’t handle the fast paced environment of a busy salon.
Achilles would send me in to help few nights lately. Instead of working like a well oiled unit like Summer and I did, I do all the running and Trish takes her foot off the gas and takes it easy. That’s not how it works.
So that’s why we’ve brought in Jill. She has previous salon experience, and I could see from day one that she would probably work out. Poor Trish just doesn’t have the temperament to work with people.
So the situation we find ourselves in today was supposed to be her last day and no one knows where she is.
Jill comes out from tanning and asks if she can do anything to help and says if I have plans she can work today, because she has nothing going on. I tell her I’m good, and hand her a shopping list for her to go to Wawa and get me some food because I’m going to be here until 6pm.
Oh shit! Cherie is coming at 3pm! I text her and tell her we’ve had a crisis at the salon and I have to work until 6pm. Of course as wonderful and flexible as Cherie is, she is fine with it and tells me she’ll come down at 7pm. I apologize and thank her for being understanding. So Trish’s whatever has fucked up the plans of some innocent people, so she better have a good excuse for bailing on work on her final day and not even telling anyone what was going on.
Cherie is a mother, and has to make babysitting arrangements when she comes into the city to see me. I feel bad if that’s causing my girlfriend stress and money because of someone else’s fuck up.
Suddenly Trish comes blazing through the door to the salon.
“I’m so sorry…”
She’s visibly upset on the verge of tears.
“What happened?”
“I was arrested last night.
To Be Continued…
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
This series is so popular! Please tell me why you love it so much. I can’t believe the traffic i get for Josephine. Granted, I love her too but I am blown away about how much you all love her. tell me what other actors I should write about to get this kind of response!
Tell me who else I should write about!!!
So I watched Death in Paradise on Netflix and fell in love with Sara Martins. I literally felt a tear roll down my cheek during the last scene of her last episode. I was heartbroken. (See: Sara Martins – The Actress I Fell In Love With)
What was the point in watching this show anymore? It’ll suck now.
Then they introduced Josephine….
I have found a new love. Classic Phicklephilly style.
Joséphine Jobert (born 24 April 1985 in Paris) is a French actress and singer.
Biography
Jobert is the daughter of Véronique Mucret Rouveyrollis, a photographer, musician, writer, actor, and director, and Charles Jobert, a camera operator and director of photography. Her father is of French and Algerian Jewish descent, and her mother’s ancestry is Martiniquaise, Spanish and Chinese. Jobert comes from a family of artists, which includes her paternal aunt Marlène Jobert and cousins Eva Green and Elsa Lunghini.[1][2]
In 1997, aged 12, she moved with her parents to Montreal, Canada, for eight years, where she studied singing and acting, and took her first steps into television. With her friends and her parents, she participated in the creation of songs, videos, a web series, and a television series on the Internet. She attended drama workshops by Stéphane Belugou as well as Coda Music School.[3]
Career
From 2008 to 2014, Jobert had steady work in various French television series. In 2015 she took on her first English-language role, as Officer Florence Cassell in the BBC One series Death in Paradise.
Research shows that the first impression is formed within 7 seconds of meeting somebody. If you have a job interview, the manager can make a decision about hiring you in just 30 seconds. Avoiding the common mistakes that ruin this first impression could increase your chances of finding a job, a friend, a client, or a life partner.
I collected some common blunders that can make you appear rude, bored, selfish, and annoying in the eyes of a person you meet for the first time. Read this list through to the end to find out how to avoid errors and use your 7 seconds wisely.
1. Weak handshake
Limp handshakes can be a real killer of the first impression. Research shows that people with a weak handshake are judged as being shy, anxious, less open, and lacking any ability. Another common mistake people make is holding the other person’s hand for too long. If you want to succeed, give a firm handshake and follow the two-second-rule.
2. Wrong hand position
Mind the position of your hands while sitting. You can put your hands in your lap, but don’t put them in your pockets because it will suggest that you are hiding something. If you put your hands on the table, don’t squeeze your hands too tight or put your palms down, it could indicate that you want to control the interviewer.
Also, while placing hands on the table and loosely folding them is an appropriate and even preferrable position in the Western world, this gesture would be considered rude in Japan and India.
3. Chewing gum
If a person sees you for the first time and you are chewing gum, they might think you are sombebody that is immature, childish, and somewhat lower class. Chewing gum is a bad idea at a job interview. However, in less formal circumstances, people chewing gum are usually evaluated as more friendly and approachable.
4. Avoiding eye-contact
Eye-contact is a powerful tool for making a good first impression. Research shows that people maintaining eye contact while talking and listening are often judged as more confident and intelligent. People avoiding eye contact, on the other hand, are viewed as less sincere, less attractive, and more anxious.
5. Playing with your hair
While women have been shown to touch their hair up to 18 times a day, playing with hair can send the wrong signal to the person you’re sepaking with. While it’s often used as a flirting technique, it can also indicate anxiety, low self-esteem, stress, and discomfort. When playing with hair becomes repetitive and obsessive, it can even signal an impulse control disorder.
6. Wrong conversation topics
There are some taboo topics which won’t help you make a good first impression on anyone: health problems, money, religion, ex-bosses or ex-partners, politics, or personal life and problems. Try not to focus the conversation only on yourself and don’t forget to listen to the person you’re speaking with.
7. Invading personal space
Physical space is the distance you make between you and the person you’re speaking with. Researchers distinguish four levels of personal space. The distance between you and the person you’ve just met at a formal meeting should be about 4 to 12 feet. If you approach the other person too closely you may seem aggressive, while standing too far away shows you aren’t interested.
8. Making distracting noises
Any random sounds you make, like tapping your foot, tapping your fingers, or cracking your knuckles may be annoying and distracting to others. Tapping can indicate nervousness, irritation, or impatience, and can also suggest that you are lying or trying to irritate others. While cracking knuckles can help you relieve stress, it’s one of the top most annoying sounds, according to a survey conducted by The New York Times.
9. Frequently checking your watch or cellphone
The average person checks their phone 110 times a day! Yet, it’s very impolite to check your phone or watch during a conversation. It shows that you are not interested in the other person, that you are bored, and that you have better things to do. Research shows that even having your phone on the table next to you reduces a conversation’s quality and engagement.
10. Forgetting names
It is embarrassing if you forget a person’s name, especially if this person remembers yours. To avoid this, immediately repeat the name after the introduction like: “Hi, Anna! Nice meeting you.” Don’t use the excuse that you are terrible with names, if you are interested in the other person the name will stay in your head.
11. Being late
When you arrive late, you give the impression that you are unreliable, bad with planning, don’t value others’ time, and lack commitment. Try to manage your time in a way that you won’t be anxious about being late and won’t need to rush. Even when you arrive on time but had to run before that, you won’t be centered and focused enough.
12. Bad attire
Statistics says that 55% of the first impression is based on your appearance. Some studies show that your appearance, height, weight, hair color, and amount of make up can influence the size of your paycheck. If you meet somebody for the first time try to be conservative and neutral in your choice of clothing, be polished, and don’t use heavy perfume.
Do you recognize yourself in any of those descriptions? Which of these points would ruin your opinion about a person with no hopes of improvement? Which points should be added to this list? Share your opinions and experiences in the comments.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.
Phicklephilly 