Carly – The Coolest Chick I Know in Philly

I was at an event at Square 1682 a few years ago. This is before I became a regular there. I was sitting out in this big white obnoxious Humvee limo, being served cocktails. It was hot, uncomfortable, and the service was slow. So after about a half hour I went inside. I simply went to the bar and ordered a drink.

I was chatting with the bartender about some movie trivia, when I felt a pair of eyes on me to my left. I look over and I see this attractive brunette woman. It looks like she is dying to interject in our conversation. I pause and give her a look. She starts quoting some good stuff and making some good observations about the film we’re discussing.

We introduce ourselves and I learn her name is Carly. She is an events director for a large restaurant chain. She also makes marijuana edibles that are apparently incredible. Over the last few years we meet up at least two to three times a month for a drink and idea exchange. She is really an amazing person, but extremely busy in her job because of all of the demands of these large scale events she assembles.

Carly doesn’t live in center city so I only get to see her after work. She is happily married, and has a passion for rescuing dogs. She can be quite the talker, and when  I met her husband for the first time I said, “You must be a good listener.”

Carly and I do this bit, where if we’re anywhere and a person walking by even remotely resembles a celebrity, we’ll make a wisecrack about them to each other. We’re not making fun of the person, just making each other laugh. It’s just a thing we do.

One night we were sitting at the bar,and this red-haired stout woman walked by us. I turn to Carly and say, “Wow. Wynonna Judd has really put on some weight.” Carly laughs and we go back to our drinks. About twenty minutes later, I’m looking down the bar at the redhead. The waiter is chatting with her. He comes by me. I stop him. “Kenny. Who is that woman with the red hair down there? I ask. “Oh that’s Wynonna Judd.”

I nearly lost my shit. I grab Carly and tell her. We rush down there. Carly is spouting about how her mother loves her, and some shit about” How Love Will Build a Bridge.” It was an absolutely hilarious, surreal moment. Wynnona is a wonderfully sweet woman you’d probably love to have as a neighbor. Just a great southern belle. Her husband was a sweet guy too.

Carly and I have had some wild times and loads of laughs over the last couple of years. I am proud to introduce her here. Like the title says, she is the coolest chick I know in Philly.

 

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 Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Michelle – Chapter 5 -The Lowes, Sofitel and Beyond

It was a Friday night. Michelle and I were scheduled to work a recruitment event at the Lowe’s Hotel. It was sponsored by our recruitment partner Monster.com. We got everything all set up in one of the small banquet rooms off the main bar/restaurant area. Our designated representative from Monster was there. He told us he wasn’t going to stay long, but there was one thing, and only one thing I had to remember. “Don’t forget to take the big Monster banner with you when the event is over.”

As people came in to the event we all split up and began networking. The conversations were flowing just like the booze. As the event wore on people were getting more drunk. I was chatting on one side of the room and Michelle was on the other. I was talking to this girl, who ended up giving me her phone number. I can’t for the life of me even remember why. She was cute but pretty banged up from drinking. You know how it is. It’s a recruitment event. A lot of young people looking for jobs or seeking better jobs come to these kinds of events. They come in, drop off their resumes, drink their faces off for free, and then leave.

Michelle and I worked that event for probably 3 or 4 hours. We were drinking the whole time. I think mostly just pounding wine. But we worked in advertising, so for the most part, we could handle ourselves. Once the last person was gone and it was just the two of us left, it was time to clean up. I remember Michelle went out for a cigarette. I didn’t smoke back then. I had been tobacco free for 10 years. I sat with her outside the exit still sipping my wine from a plastic cup.

We went back in and started dismantling the signage. I’ll never forget what happened next. We had the huge banner on the floor and were rolling it up. She was rolling it up from one end and me at the other. As she rolled it closer to me she went right in for the kiss. Right on the lips. It was beautiful. I was in love. Smitten!

The heart isn’t really capable of holding onto large-scale events. But little moments like that mark you deeply and can sustain themselves for a lifetime.

Michelle told me that there was some sort of after party at the Field House. It’s a big sports bar over by Reading Terminal. So we head over and I’m carrying the huge rolled up banner around with me. The party is upstairs. I remember two things. This one guy, that whenever I would step away from Michelle for any reason, be it to get a drink or go to the restroom, he would magically appear. I remember seeing him do this again and again.  He would just be standing next to Michelle wide-eyed and smiling as he stared at her with obvious admiration. It was kind of funny. The other thing I remember was this little gay dude. He wasn’t a little person, but he was really short. There was this one point where he and Michelle did what what they call “a walk off.” I think it’s a term they use in the modeling community. Michelle being a former print and runway model, she knew how to do it. It was funny to watch this 5’11 tall blonde locking arms with this little dapper dude and do a walk off. I think they did a few of them. It was just a funny sight that I remember.

By this time, I was too drunk to drive home. For whatever reason, we couldn’t go back to her place to crash. I would have been fine sleeping on her couch. Maybe her bitch face roommate was there entertaining or something. I still have the huge banner  with me. (See, you thought I left it at the Field House, didn’t you?)  I don’t remember whose grand idea it was to go to the Hotel Sofitel at 17th and Sansom Streets. We didn’t even go to the Liberte bar for a drink. I just went up to the front desk and ordered a room. We got up to the room and went straight to sleep. I don’t even remember what time it was or anything. But nothing happened between us. We just crashed.

The next thing I know it’s morning and I hear this little rustling of paper at the door. I open my eyes and look over. There is a sheet of white paper on the floor. I slip out of bed and go pick it up. I turn it over. It’s the bill.

$300 for one night! $300 and I didn’t even get laid. Maybe it’s not too late! She’s still asleep. When she wakes up maybe she’ll want to… What am I thinking? The only time ANYTHING happens between us that even resembles affection or romance is when she’s impaired. She’s trying to get back with Delaware Dave and when she gets drunk she acts out with me. She always regrets it. I know she has feelings for me but she’s conflicted. Funny how this will rear its ugly head down the road on several occasions. When she awakens she’ll be really hung over and then she’ll have to leave. Who am I kidding? We’re not going to hang out. I’ll just go back to my little apartment in Jersey.

We get ourselves together and I show her the bill. She’s horrified. She vows that’s she’s going to give me half. She’s hung over and so am I. We leave the hotel which all seems like a blur now. We walked up to this little deli at 16th and Arch. She wanted to get some food. Something healthy. I wasn’t in any mood for food. I’m still carrying around the giant banner. Maybe I had folded it in half by then, but it was still ridiculous. Like an eight foot vinyl scarf.

Michelle tells me she has to drive down to Delaware to see Dave. Apparently they’re supposed to hang out with some friends of his from Hawaii. I remember the day was overcast like my mood. We part ways and I walk back to the parking garage with my banner. I toss it in the back of my station wagon. I make my way back to Jersey. I’m frustrated with how things are going. It doesn’t seem right. She hangs out with me here in Philly, but her heart is in Delaware. She’s known this guy since they were 15. She’s 27now. When you’ve known someone that long they’re like family.

I take it easy the rest of the day. I reflect on where this whole thing is going with Michelle. I was cleaning some things out of my wallet, when I come across the name and phone number of the girl from last night’s event. I text her on my flip phone. (You read that right. It’s 2008.) She texts me back and we decide to meet up on Sunday. Like the song says; “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

I don’t even remember her name. We’ll just call her Sue for this story. We meet up on Sunday around 1pm at the Continental Midtown. We’re at the mezzanine bar upstairs. She’s young and attractive. She tells me she was out late the night before with her friends and still felt a little banged up. We order some cocktails and let the conversation flow. We get a decent afternoon buzz on and go out to explore.

We ended up the Bellevue Hyatt. That’s where Nineteen is located. But we didn’t go into Nineteen. We ended up watching a trunk fashion show on the same floor. It felt like something I’d much rather being doing with Michelle, but like I said, Sue was present. She was a little sassy and had some attitude, but I really didn’t mind. This was a decent band-aid on my heart for the day. After the show she grabbed me and started making out with me on the elevator ride down. It was good, and I had felt the energy earlier in the day, but she said she waited because she didn’t believe in PDA. (Public displays of affection). For some reason we went to Lucky Strikes. I don’t even know why. It’s a bar and bowling alley. I had only been there once before for a corporate bowling party. We ordered pizza and fries and washed them down with a few beers. We didn’t even bowl and had no intention of doing so.

After a while she tells me that she has to go home and let her dog out. I walk her home and I decide that I don’t really like this girl. She just seems like a vacuous idiot. We say our goodbyes and I tell her I’m going to give her a call.

I’m walking back to the parking garage and I check my phone. I hadn’t looked at it all day. People didn’t do that back then. No smart phones back then. There is a voicemail from Michelle. I listen to it. She says that she read the screenplay treatment I gave her. She liked it and said she looked forward to seeing me on Monday at the office.

That was the highlight of my weekend.

A couple of days later at work, Michelle returned a music CD to me that I had lent her. I think it was a record by Julie Cruise. I opened it later and inside the jewel case was a check in the amount of $150.Her half for the room.

I never cashed it.

Michelle always said: “I have so much fun with you that when the day is over, I wish we could do it all over again.”

 

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June – Runs with Scissors – Update

I met June in October. Texted a bit. Talked to her on the phone for 4 hours while we were both drunk. Met up for drinks a day later. Had some laughs. Met up with her again when I took her to the Midtown Fall Festival.

But here is the thing. I would drink and smoke with this lady at McGlinchey’s but not much else. I’m just not a fan. I know I’m going to sound vacuous and shallow, but I’m just not attracted to her. It’s not working. The face isn’t doing it for me and neither is the rest of her. The stocky body and man hands from rustling horses? Just, no.

I can’t. She’s kind of like a moped. Sure they’re lots of fun to ride. But you don’t want your friends to see you on that thing. But no hard feelings on this one. She’s even been in touch with me a little in text. Wanting me to get a drink, hang out, but I just wasn’t into it. It’s either hell yea, or hell no.

And the verdict on June, is hell no.

If you read my last update on Valerie, (Love me Tinder) you’ll sort of know where I am with these middle aged women. I tried, but I’m just not into dating these two. But here’s the thing. Maybe I just haven’t been dating the right women my age. I’m going to keep trying. What I do enjoy about women my age is, we have a similar worldview and share a social and developmental timeline. That’s a good thing. I just need to find the right girl. I don’t care how old she is.

 

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 Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Scarlett – Sexy chica de tamaño más – Part I

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

I recently went down my list of all of the people I have ever chatted with on Tinder. I may not have spoken to them in a while. I just wanted to touch everyone to simply say, “hello” but mostly to keep feeding this blog with new material. Life once fed the art, but now that I’m meeting so many women, the art is now feeding life. When I started this blog I made a list of over 20 women I had met over the last 10 years and decided they should be a part of this tome. I thought I’d simply write about them all, and maybe a couple other people as they entered my life during the time it took me to cover them all. But I’ve been meeting so many people I can’t keep up with them all! As a writer it’s become a wonderful problem to have.

Like the days when I was in a band or even before that when I was into drawing, I only made art for myself. The pictures I drew were of things I loved and the songs I wrote and our band played were for us. This blog is about my expression. I haven’t written anything in years. (Unless copy for award-winning advertising campaigns counts!) I am happy to say I am writing again. The best compliment you can pay someone is to copy them or try to be like them. I am putting words and stories where there were none before. I feel closest to my creator when I create.

One of the women I said hello to that responded was Scarlett. So we start chatting and she responds with: “Hey! Sorry, I’m rarely on here. Just saw your text.” But then I get a regular text from her on my phone, not Tinder. I’m confused, but who knows? Maybe alcohol was involved. I don’t remember talking to her or exchanging phone numbers. She asked how I’ve been and how we had a whole conversation. She starts going into this story about how we talked when she had just moved back to the US  from the Dominican Republic.  She says she is currently living in University City. I tell her my neighborhood and she says she spends a lot of time down there. I ask her to meet me for a drink. I also provide her with days I’m available. Then she drops this bomb:

Scarlett: “Why should I give you a shot after all this time that has passed?

Me: “That is a choice only you can make.” (I just thought I swiped, she swiped and nothing happened)

Scarlett: “Well of course. But are you planning on making up for lost time?”

Me: “What? What lost time? We’ve never met!”

Scarlett: “Because you stood me up.”

Me: “That is simply not true.” (I’m thinking she’s crazy at this point)

I send her a screenshot of our last conversation on Tinder. I told her that was our last conversation on Tinder, then I never heard from her again. Then we spoke again today.

She then sent me a screenshot of our last conversation, but it was from October 2014. Two years ago! It was me texting her and telling her I had to go meet with a client so I couldn’t have lunch with her that day. I remember now I just didn’t feel like it, so I bailed.

So I obviously apologized. But I did explain to her I technically didn’t stand her up, I cancelled. She said I did it last-minute, but whatever, I don’t remember. But she accepted my apology and decided to give me another chance. But it’s been two years! She said it seemed odd because I was such a gent. So we decided to meet for drinks on Monday.

Stop back in 2 weeks to see what happens on our date.

 

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 Wednesdays at 9am EST.

Sun Stories – Achilles – The Bronze God

Part of the Wednesday series will be called “Sun Stories.” That’s any interesting things that happen at the tanning salon.

Here is another friend of mine, that I wanted to introduce to this story. So when I’m writing about my adventures and they are involved in the process or the dialogue, You’ll know who they are.

Achilles was a client of mine. I reached out to many clients that were in the system where I formerly worked selling advertising. He was one of the ones who got back to me. I went to see him at the time. He owns a tanning salon/spa and it was his slow season. Late Summer to early Fall. He hadn’t advertised with us before and I convinced him to give us a try. He gave me some ad artwork, and we went over frequency and budget. We ran the ads for about 12 weeks, but after a while we felt it wasn’t working.

He was ready to not renew the contract with me, but I came up with another idea. I came up with some really good ideas for ads to promote the salon. Instead of the standard coupon type ad, I created some really catchy copy with some great images, to capture the spirit of the place. So he decide to give me one more chance and ran for another 3 months.

During that time I would go into the salon on a weekly basis and chat with him about the copy and some ideas. We also became friends. He would tell me all about his challenges with his younger girlfriend. Achilles is a low-key, simple man. When I say simple, I don’t mean simple-minded. He is incredibly smart and talented in many ways. He just wants to live a simple and uncluttered life.

Born to Greek immigrants, he came to America when he was 6 years old. None of the had much and none of them even spoke English. But if you know anyone who is Greek, they are a great proud people. The Greeks had built their own civilization when many of us were still swinging from trees. They work in restaurants, stick together as a family, save their money, and then open their own businesses. Achilles was running around the city at age 10 delivering pizzas. He’s worked his entire life.

But he’s so much more than that. He can fix anything. Build anything. He’s got a head for mathematics and design. He’s good at running a business and making money. He can build structures, like housing. He can fix your car. He can take apart most mechanical appliances and repair them. His motto is, “Why should I pay someone to do it, if I can do it myself.”

Oh and did I mention he’s in great shape. At 47 he is muscular and really fit. 5’10 180 lbs pure muscle. He owns his own business. Has a beautiful house. A few nice cars, money in the bank, and a motorcycle. It seems like the perfect package. (It also almost seems like Phicklephilly is taking a turn with the other team here doesn’t it?)

So I would go into the salon every week, and Achilles would always be either complaining about his hot young girlfriend or his staff.  His girlfriend of 8 years is always creating arguments and fights out of nowhere. We have discussed this several times and we don’t know why she does it. She just does. He even came so close once to asking her to marry him, and he pulled back and didn’t because of her nonsense. If she could just be cool and just enjoy the calm life she has with him, he’d probably take a chance with her. But only time will tell.

One day for like the fourth time he’s complaining about his staff. This one doesn’t clean the place right. That one calls out because she has anxiety. This one is hung over. Weekend guy’s mom is dying again. I tell him maybe he should hire people who are a little more mature and a bit more reliable. I say this as the 10th beautiful, tan young thing walks by me in the lobby. I tell him that I like to work, and would love to work there as a part-time job at night. So after us building a business relationship for over 9 months his response was: “You’re hired.”

I started working 2 nights a week, and then I occasionally got the weekend schedule. When some people left and the schedule shook out I had most of the shifts. I worked Monday through Friday at the advertising job from 8:15 to 4:45, and worked every evening from 5 to 8 at the salon. Sunday I worked 11-4pm. My only day off was Saturdays. I was working 70 hours a week and loving it. I actually really love working at the salon. The clients are nice and it’s a fun and easy job. I’m a good sales guy, so he actually pays me commission for selling accessories.

I’ll probably stay in advertising as long as possible even though it’s a grinding thankless job. But Achilles and I are looking to open a gym or a spin bike studio somewhere in the city. If that happens we’ll be business partners. So stay tuned!

 

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