The 10 Types Of Men That Women Hate

Women have different opinions when it comes to the best types of men, but they are practically the same when it comes to which types they do not like, some men have an incredible facility to cause repulsion in women and it is important to know which 10 types of men less attractive to them and find out if you are in that category.

1- Men who think the soap opera: Women like handsome men but hate the thugs of the soap opera of the eight, if you have been graced by nature do not need to remind them of it all the time, you have the right to find yourself beautiful and have self-esteem but do it subtly and let your beauty be just one of your qualities.

2- Men who prioritize work: Women like ambitious men who want to rise in life, but hate the type who only thinks about projects, meetings and qualification courses, work is very important in a man’s life and you need it to achieve his goals, but never consider him more important than his wife.

3- Men without initiative: They like men with attitude and do not wait for things to happen, it is you who should guide the woman and not the opposite, give her options of places to have fun and when you reach a restaurant have the initiative to find an empty table or call the waiter, never expect the woman to do it.

4- Men without money: You do not have to be rich, but you will never get beautiful women completely broken, you need money to take you in fun places, pay the motel and restaurant, even women with stable financial condition do not like to split the account, when that happens she feels undervalued, so if your salary is short, put your bills up to date and multiply your creativity to find fun places and you do not have to spend a lot of money.

5- Men who talk about previous relationships: They hate the cheap conqueror type and tell their intimacies with other women, so do not talk about ex-girlfriends, they abhor this, if you’ve seduced thousands of women do not worry about telling them why surely she will discover this alone.

6- Mountain Men of Muscles: They are attracted to strong men and not to mountain of muscles, women love to know that you knit hard in the gym, but be careful not to overdo it and look like the Incredible Hulk.

7- Bully Men: Treat the waiter badly, argue in the traffic and face someone who looked at it are unforgivable attitudes, no woman likes to be on the side of a bully man where anything can happen.

8- Stupid men: For extinct men are accustomed to look at any pair of breasts or thighs that are on display, but when you are with a woman on the side know to control, a simple glance can be expensive and cause you to miss a night which could be a lot of fun.

9- Controlling men: Every day is less the number of women who like and find interesting the type of bossy and controlling man, do not like to know that being a partner is interested in exercising power over them, women value freedom and want to be side of someone who cares about her and not the size of her dress.

10- Rude Men: Education, gentleness and seduction are words that match, so learn to treat women well because their biggest complaint is that it’s hard to find polite and kind men.

 

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California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Chapter 5 – The French Quarter – Part 1

We are driving along highway 10 headed West. Frank suggests we take a little detour into New Orleans. I’m down. It’s Mardi Gras so we kind of have to go there. Should be interesting. We check our guidebooks and settle on staying at the YMCA. That wouldn’t be too gay right?  It’s situated in the heart of the French Quarter. I remember the room costing us $14 for the night!

The room was like a jail cell. Just a door leading into one room with two single beds pushed against opposite walls. There was a bureau and one window with bars on it. The walls were just cinder blocks painted light green. Best part was the parking lot was gated and they locked it at night so the van with all of our stuff was safe.

We drop our bags and head out into the over cast afternoon. A lot of cities and towns look alike in America. The French Quarter looks like you’re somewhere else. All the beautiful French architecture is incredible. But lying beneath and around all of that is Sodom and Gomorah with a two drink minimum.

We stop in the first bar we see and grab a couple of beers in plastic cups and head out to explore the madness.

After waving at the parade and skillfully dodging (sometimes) beads flying past my head we entered the most epic street of all, Bourbon Street. From there, an oddly religious themed Mardi Gras began.

I saw the Pope! Ok not the real Pope, but a guy on a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street sporting the Pope hat and robe. He tossed beads to the crowd and blessed all the sinners below in jested fun.

As we continued to go down the street we ran into the infamous Jesus group. There is always one at every “sinful” event. They were continually shouting that we were sinners and preaching their faith to all the drunks in the street. Everyone proceeded to take pictures as if they were a tourist attraction. What I would like to know is do they ever get one person to come over and say, “Ya know, you’re totally right! I’m going to leave Mardi Gras right now to go home and repent.” Now I have nothing against any religion or how people choose to practice and share their faith…but I’m not entirely sure in the middle of Bourbon Street halfway through Mardi Gras day is the most effective way to go about i

Afterwards we entered a bar with a small half circle stage in the front where about five girls were booty shaking like no tomorrow on the stage. I don’t think I could get that much of me to wiggle if I tried. Then lo and behold a large woman dressed as a tri-boobed nun took the center of the stage and started busting her own moves to the music. Then she proceeds to put her leg up on rail, thrust her pelvis towards the crowd, whipped out a cigar and started to smoke it. The scene unfolding in front of me was like Sister Act gone wrong and it doesn’t end there.

As we’re laughing at the hilarity of the situation, three topless yet painted chest girls walked on stage. One of the girls looked like she just had a baby with the belly drooping down low. That didn’t stop her. She was a brave one. Then in the middle of all the dancing came the ultimate shocker of the night. The nun went up to post pregger lady and they started full on making out right in the middle of the booty shaking.

My mouth just dropped as I was trying to process what was going on. It was hilarious and shocking and definitely a memorable highlight of the trip.

Mardi Gras is full of shocking sights and stories but it’s an experience I would definitely have again. There are a lot of brave people sporting the goods, (if you know what I mean) but you can have just as much fun observing as you can participating. Provided you do not have virgin eyes or ears and wish to keep them that way, Mardi Gras New Orleans is definitely an event that shouldn’t be missed.

The next day…

We watched the Lundi Gras parades from Canal Street. We got there kind of early to get a decent spot, and so we waited for at least an hour for the floats to arrive. Two guys selling merchandise set up behind us, selling shirts that said, “I’ll suck your titty for a dollar.” The entire time we were there, they were yelling this at people passing by. “Suck yo titty for a dollar! I’ll suck that titty for a dollar!” Entrepreneurial spirit at its best.

Some lady in her 40’s or 50’s was set up a little way down from us on the neutral ground before Endymion. She and her friends started taking shots of whisky from this contraption: a wooden plank with slots in it for shot glasses. Before too long, she was karaoking and dancing enthusiastically while her teenagers tried to pretend they didn’t know her. It went on for hours. Great people watching.

We chanced a walk down Bourbon during the day time, before it got too crowded. Frank went in to use the restroom, leaving me under a balcony that had a direct view of many girls flashing for beads. There was this old guy set up there, and every time a girl looked ready to flash, he’d run forward and take pictures of it with his camera. We saw him get about a dozen shots in 10 minutes. I wonder what he does with the photos.

Two things that give me a grudging respect for city employees:

1) watching a completely destroyed, trash-filled Canal St near Carrollton made near pristine in under an hour by the street cleaning crew. Good job, y’all. That’s some serious business.

2) Shortly after overhearing a couple of girls arguing in the bathroom line and a threat about “gettin yo ass beat in a Popeye’s!” A fight broke out at the Wendy’s next door on St. Charles. (We think maybe it was the same girls who’d wandered over there to find friends.) Swarms of teenagers started running over there exclaiming about a fight, and within a minute, a bunch of cops in neon yellow vests and about half a dozen mounted officers were there. There were shootings near Lee Circle at a recent Mardi Gras, if I recall correctly, so it was encouraging to see the police were taking crowd safety seriously.

So far I’m loving this odyssey on the road to California!

 

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A Unique Gift – Chapter 1

This is part one of a new series I want to write that mixes mind control with transformation elements. This is the first time I have written something primarily based on mind control and while this first part is very smut heavy later parts will have more focus on the mind control aspects for other purposes (as well as smut). I hope you enjoy and please give me feedback, it would really help!

*****

Jack sighed as he made his way to college. At nineteen he felt he should have more of a handle of his life than he did. He was stuck taking classes he didn’t enjoy and working a job he hated to pay for those classes. He had barely any friends and he hadn’t had sex in almost a year. Overall life was pretty dull. He sat down in his least favorite class, economics. Not only did he find the subject exceptionally boring it was taught by his least favorite teacher Miss Jameson.

She was extremely attractive and Jack, like most guys in the class, had grinned when they first saw her walk into their classroom. She was tall, just shy of six feet tall, with long legs, curved hips, a small waist and generously sized breasts. There had been quite the debate over whether they were D or DD. She didn’t just have the body, she had the face to match. She was very pretty with green eyes that was typical of someone with her red hair which she always wore in a neat bun.

Obviously with a teacher like that it was no surprise all the guys had been excited when they first saw her but it had been short lived. They had all soon realized she was a complete bitch. Always serious, always angry and always willing to berate her students for the most minor of transgressions. Jack had quickly learnt to keep his head down, keep quiet and stay under her radar. Which for the most part had worked. He folded his arms and rested them on his desk with his chin perched on top of them as she began her lecture.

She droned on and Jack felt himself getting sleepy as he listened. He wasn’t in the mood to take notes so instead he rested his head on his arms. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until he suddenly heard someone shouting, loudly. He looked up to find the whole room staring at him and Miss Jameson seething with anger.

“I’m sorry am I boring you?” She asked.

“No sorry,” Jack apologized. This was the last thing he needed today.

“So what have I spent the last ten minutes talking about?” Miss Jameson asked. Jack tried to think, he looked at the clock and felt a pang of panic, he had been asleep for almost forty minutes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted to much smirking from his class mates.

“Come see me this evening, we need to have a talk about your performance in this class,” Miss Jameson clipped before turning to the rest of the room and continuing her class. Jack groaned, the last thing he wanted was to spend another hour with her at the end of the day. It wasn’t like detention like back in high school, no that was easy. Turn up, sit there for an hour, catch up on homework and leave. No this was worse. This was going to be an hour of being lectured and berated by the queen bitch.

By the time he got home Jack was exhausted. He made his way back to his house, which was a short drive from campus. It was the only time in his life he had ever been lucky. It was actually his sisters house, she was seven years older than him and seemed to be the lucky one of the family. She had graduated from the same college he was now attending and landed and extremely high paying job, which to Jacks fortune, meant she would be spending most of the next four years out of the country.

As such she had let Jack live in her house. It was close to the college and meant that she didn’t have to sell her house or worry about leaving it vacant for months at a time. So other than a few weekends here and there when she would be home, Jack had the house to himself. He unlocked the door and almost missed the small box someone had hidden behind the plant pot by the door. He picked it up, briefly wondering what was in the small package and went inside. He put the package down and made himself some dinner.

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=80

 

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The Worst Relationship Of Your Life Will Be With Someone Who Does These 13 Things

1. Never date someone who acts sketchy AF. Someone who hides their phone from your view. Someone who never gives you a straight answer when you ask a question. Someone who refuses to put a label on your relationship even though you assumed you were already dating.

2. Never date someone who makes you love yourself less. Someone who makes you feel unintelligent. Someone who makes you feel unattractive. Someone who makes you feel unworthy of their affection.

3. Never date someone who makes you chase them. Someone who refuses to send the first text. Someone who waits for you to plan every date and lead every conversation. Someone who acts lazy because they know you will pick up the slack.

4. Never date someone who chooses when to treat you well. Someone who will spoil you for weeks and then ignore you for weeks. Someone who changes their tune every few days. Someone who only shows you respect sometimes.

5. Never date someone who only cares about themselves. Someone who thinks they are always right. Someone who refuses to compromise with you or apologize to you. Someone who has trouble taking responsibility for their own actions.

6. Never date someone without a conscience. Someone who ignores your texts without feeling bad about it. Someone who lies to your face without feeling guilty about it. Someone who hurts you without losing sleep over it.

7. Never date someone who makes you feel uncomfortable. Someone who acts superior to you. Someone who you have to walk on eggshells around to avoid an argument. Someone who peer pressures you into drinking or having s*x when you said no the first time.

8. Never date someone who makes you feel guilty over your emotions. Someone who calls you overemotional whenever you get upset. Someone who asks if you’re on your period every time you express your feelings. Someone who finds a way to turn every situation around so that they are the victim and they are the one who should be upset.

9. Never date someone who expects you to choose them over everything else. Someone who expects you to cancel plans with friends to see them. Someone who expects you to quit your job to spend more time with them. Someone who expects you to give up everything that makes you you because they feel like they are the only thing that should be causing you happiness.

10. Never date someone who keeps secrets from you. Someone who bottles their emotions up inside. Someone who pretends they’re fine when they’re clearly not. Someone who hides pieces of themselves from you, even though you’re the one person they should feel comfortable around.

11. Never date someone who gives you orders. Someone who tells you which clothes you are allowed to wear and which friends you are allowed to text. Someone who makes you get permission from them before leaving the house. Someone who acts overbearing and overprotective.

12. Never date someone who takes their anger out on you. Someone who treats you like their punching bag after a stressful day of work. Someone who becomes violent when they don’t get their way. Someone who has scared you before because you weren’t sure what they were going to do next.

13. Never date someone who has shown you mean nothing to them. Someone who is okay with a one-sided relationship. Someone who lets you do all the work without lending a hand. Someone who takes from you but never gives back.

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Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

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Sun Stories – Client Relations Specialist Visiting Philly

The secret has been discovered!

I was working at the salon one Sunday, and this blonde haired woman walks in. She has a nice coat on and her nails are done. She looks like she has money, but there’s some mileage on that face. She’s never been to the salon before so I have her fill out the consent form. I ask her how she heard about us and she said she just googled tanning in Philly.

“I see you’re from Chicago. What brought you to our fine city?”

“Just visiting friends.”

She says she looked on our website and saw that we have something called a “double dip’. That’s where for $29.95 you can do a spray tan and a UV tan. She wants that. I ask her what she’d like to do first. (Everybody has their preference) She says she wants to do the stand up bed for the full nine minutes and then do the spray on the level three bronze. (That’s the darkest)

She pays me and I set up the sessions. She goes into the stand up room first.

Whenever we get someone from out-of-town on a weekend that comes in for one session I always eyeball them if I get a vibe. But this lady was making my spider sense tingle. So while she was in the booth I figured I do some sniffing around on the internet.

I googled her name in Chicago.

Nothing.

I googled her address in Chicago.

Nothing.

I knew something was up with her. I googled her cell number.

Bingo!

It took me to a page where there were several professionally photographed (and retouched) photos of a topless blonde that looked like the lady in the sun bed.

It also had this nice little bio:

 

Real pics! If it’s not me, It’s free

I am a gorgeous, sophisticated and uninhibited young girl who adores spoiling! Hello Gentlemen I am Claire. I am a sexy, seductive, beautiful girl who just loves to pamper and please. I love to turn fantasies into reality, and can accommodate all of your needs, wants and desires. Relax and unwind in an upscale personalized setting, and embrace my sensual touch that becomes sweetly erotic in the heat of my passion. Allow me to seduce you with my flirtatious smile, smooth soft skin and insanely hot body! Drift into a state of pure relaxation. Expect extreme arousal and comfortable throughout your entire experience as it will feel like your girlfriend is along side you attending to your every desire. Treat yourself to an hour or two of pure indulgence! I will be the Girlfriend of your dreams and your Perfect Companion. Call today to arrange some quality time with me. I will answer your call and I will be very discreet. I do in call and out calls only to selected upscale hotels BRIEF ENCOUNTERS 1 hour in $350 out $400 2 hours $700 A brief escape, yet with plenty of time to relax, both body and mind. LUNCH/DINNER DATE Up to 4 hours $1200 Let’s arouse the senses over a delicious meal followed by an even more exquisite dessert… THE EVENING Up to 6 hours $1800 Indulge in the city’s vibrant nightlife and get caught up in the moment with me. THE NIGHT Up to 16 hours $3000 The night holds nearly endless possibilities. Let’s explore. EXTENDED TIME (Price upon request) What did you have in mind? I am intrigued…! My rates reflect my preference of quality over quantity and are therefore non-negotiable.Your privacy is important to me and your details will never be shared. Mutual discretion is expected and honored at all times. Due to safety reason I am not able to see you unless you can provide me with the requested details. Claire

My Stats
Gender: Female
Age: 26
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Height: 5’5″
Weight: 125 lbs
Bust: 36DD
Waist: 26″
Hips: 36″
Available To: Men, Women, Groups, Couples
Availability: Incall, Outcall
Location: Tyron’s corner, DuPont circle

appearance

real photo Yes photo accurate Yes
build Skinny height 5’3″ – 5’5″
ethnicity White Transsexual No
age 26 breast size 34-35
hair color Blonde breast cup DD
hair type Some curls breast implants Yes
hair length Shoulder length breast appearance Super nice
piercings Belly button tattoos A few
pussy Shaved

services offered

massage VIP only massage quality
sex
VIP only
s&m
VIP only
blow job
VIP only
cum in mouth
VIP only
touch pussy
VIP only
lick pussy
VIP only
kiss
VIP only
anal
VIP only
two girl action
VIP only
will bring second provider
VIP only
more than one guy at a time
VIP only
full, no-rush session
VIP only
multiple pops allowed
VIP only
rimming
VIP only
squirt
VIP only
allow film or picture
VIP only
female condom
VIP only

Wow. Jackpot. (Rimming’s and option?)

Lady’s an escort. But here’s the best part. She’s stretched the truth a bit. If you look back at her bio she says that she’s 26 years old. Based on those professionally done photos she could pull it off.

But the lady in the tanning booth does not look 26 years old. The date of birth she wrote on her consent form to tan today?

April 30th, 1977!!!!

That hooker turned 40 this year!

 

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Clarice – Chapter 6 – Happy Birthday, Baby – Part Two

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

So it feels like we’re driving forever. I feel like I’m a million miles from the city. I really love living in center city, despite its problems. Driving through the rolling countryside of Pennsylvania this time of year, sort of bums me out. I’m just going by all of these big houses all isolated out here. It reminds me of the suburbs in South Jersey. Another depressing time in my life. I don’t like being out here. But again, I’ll be good because it’s her special day.

We finally get to the park. It’s a nice place and it’s not too cold out. It’s a pretty huge park. You can walk through it, but it actually has a road through it. So you’re not walking on any dirt paths. There’s a few people around. Mostly couples, families and people jogging or walking their dogs. Walks in the park in the winter aren’t really my cup of tea. Walks in the park anytime aren’t really my cup of tea. I’d rather be in a bar in the city, having a drink and a cig.

As we walk further into the park, I can feel a mix of anxiety and depression wash over me.

I think it was because all of the trees are bare for the winter, and I’m in a strange place.

There is actually something comforting about being in a city. I have some of my happiest memories back in Philly. I also am starting to get a very real vibe that I have to find a restroom soon. Brunch is starting to work on me. Not good.

We were out there for a while and I did see a port-o-potty out there. It almost beckoned to me off in the distance. But I just didn’t want to go in there. I figured I could make it back to the main area and find a restroom there.

During our walk through the park there was some good conversation and laughs. I also kissed her a few times. That was nice. She tells me how she’s had Bells palsy before. She feels like it has affected how her face looks and moves. I didn’t even notice anything.

Find out more here: http://www.webmd.com/brain/tc/bells-palsy-topic-overview#1

But now that she’s mentioned it, I see it. Normally it clears up after a few weeks and your face goes back to normal, but it appears in her case some of the paralysis has remained. I don’t mind, because it’s hardly noticeable and she’s still attractive.

We finally get back to the beginning of the park, and I tell her I need to use the restroom. I head over to the little building, praying to God that the door isn’t locked yet. Because the sun is nearly down and it’s getting dark.

Thankfully, the door is open and I make it to the stall. It’s a huge relief when my cheeks hit the bowl, and I’m sort of glad that it’s an outdoor bathroom. I’ll leave it at that.

I return to my lady, and we walk around the main property. There is a mansion there. It really looks cool. We stroll around the property and there are some more kisses exchanged.

I have been with her for five hours now, and I’d be fine with just going home. I’m also kind of dreading waiting for the train at 69th street. She wants to take me to her house for a drink. I’m fine with that, we’ll see what happens.

Her house is quaint. She lives on the first floor, and rents out the second floor to a retired gentleman.

I make myself a vodka and ginger ale, and she’s making some sort of cosmo or something. We retire to her living room. We’re just hanging out on her couch chatting and sipping our drinks. She then gives me a tour of the house. Now, this house is pretty cozy, and I’m assuming built maybe back in the forties or fifties. But she hits the lights in her bathroom, and I am blown away. It’s been completely remodeled and redesigned. Against the back right corner is a huge glass shower, with a stone floor. The commode is across from it. In the center of the room is a huge jacuzzi type tub. Along the south wall is a huge double vanity, and get this; the floor is heated. It’s one of the greatest personal bathrooms I’ve ever seen. Had I known this before, I may have been able to hold it until I got here so I could have dropped a deuce like a king!

She said it was a present from her father. She had purchased the jacuzzi tub and then didn’t have enough money to finish her dream lavatory. She said it sat in a huge box in her bedroom for a long time, and her father kicked in a bunch of money to finish the bathroom. It’s a killer bathroom, but it’s an over improvement to the house. I can’t for the life of me understand why one older woman would want a bathroom this nice. But maybe someone out there does. I guess if it makes her happy and she spends a lot of time in the bathroom, it works. But it’s just a weird purchase. It’s obvious she doesn’t have much money.  She’s sixty-two and her daddy is still buying stuff for her house. He’s got to be well into his nineties, so maybe he doesn’t give a shit about the money at that age. I guess if I had a tub like that, I’d be in there with a bunch of booze, and get a flat screen in that bathroom.

We had another drink and hung out in her living room again. I wasn’t getting a vibe that sex was happening, and frankly I didn’t care. It shouldn’t be something I was wondering about, or deciding if I think it should happen. It should be a spontaneous celebration of how we feel about each other. And I’m just not feeling it.

She volunteers to drive me home. I am overjoyed that I don’t have to wait at 69th street station tonight. It doesn’t take as long as I thought it would, and soon I am on my street in front of my building. We kiss goodnight and I thank her for the ride, and for choosing me to spend her 62nd birthday with her.

She drives off. Tomorrow she’ll discover the black and pink scarf I hid in her dashboard. It’s wrapped in a little black bag. Just a little something extra for her birthday.

But, I don’t really want to go out with her again.

 

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Clarice – Chapter 5 – Happy Birthday, Baby – Part One

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

Today is Clarice’s birthday. Which she says is the actual birthday of Martin Luther King. She set it up that I would get on a train and go to her neighborhood today. She lives in Upper Darby. She’s supposed to be at the 69th Street station at 12:30pm today to pick me up and take me to her favorite restaurant for brunch. (What’s this day going to run me?)

I stop at the salon in the morning. Normally I work on Sundays but I switched with Trish, so I could hang with Clarice on her birthday. I kind of feel special that out of all of the men Clarice could have spent her 62nd birthday with, she picked me. I chat a bit with Trish and then head over to Suburban Station.

I have to get on the Market Frankford line and take it to 69th street in Upper Darby. Little sketchy, but it’ll be okay. I drop my token at the turnstile and go through. I see that there is a yellow police tape blocking off the steps to go down to the platform. But it’s the only way to get to Upper Darby. So like the moron I am, I go under the tape and head down to the platform. I’m waiting for a while. I notice I am the only one on this side of the tracks.

Some guy who looks like he works there says to me, “You know the trains are only running on the other side today.”

So I scamper back up the steps, under the tape, and over to the other side. Within a few minutes the train to 69th street arrives. I hop on and find a seat. This is only our third date. Do you think she believes in the 3rd date rule? I don’t believe in that horse shit notion, but maybe she does. I know she likes me. She’s a nice looking lady and fit. On our last date she said she has no ass and skinny legs, but great tits. I’m a leg man, and I’m not thinking about any of her physical attributes. She is in good shape for 62 years old. I think it’s that theater background I’m struggling with. She was an opera singer for years which tells me she has little real world experience, like Annabelle. That makes her come off as a little silly and immature. Can you imagine being in your sixties and still behaving like you’re in your twenties. Crazy! But now I know what to expect from these artist types.

She always says I’m fitting her in. Why would she feel she needs to be a priority? Does she think she’s the only woman I’m dating? Couldn’t there be someone younger and of greater value in my life right now?

I’m a little nervous. Is that a good thing? I think it’s only because I going to a strange area, and then she’s going to drive us to a restaurant. Am I going to have sex with her today? I think I would. Yea, I totally would. Maybe since she told me she has cancelled with other guys she wasn’t interested in, and never cancelled with me, I’m the one. I brought condoms. But she’s at an age where she is well out of range of ever having children. Speaking of which, you should be wary of a woman who never remarried, even when she was young, and still hot. What’s up with that? I do like the idea of never being able to get her pregnant ever. Because the last thing I want is that nightmare now. At 62 do you think she’ll have a dry coochie like Halle Berry?

What? You’ve never heard that? It’s true!

I want to have sex with Mary too. (See: Mary – 2014 to Present – The Unexpected Table for Two) That would be a fucking record. Literally. I like Mary. It would probably be low maintenance sex. Me and the hot grannies! Hip cracking sex!

Once you follow my blog into 2018, you’ll know this was all nonsense….

Anyway, I hop off the train at 69th street station. The area is sketchy like I said. I text her that I’m there. She’s parked across the street. I cross the street and get into her car. It’s a little messy. We greet with a kiss and off we go to the restaurant. During the ride over we’re chatting and I’m making her laugh as usual. Maybe I’m doing my ‘nervous talking thing’. I ask her if she’s been on any good dates lately. She says she has decided to not answer that question anymore. I’m fine with that, but it seems juvenile. If she has decided to not answer that question, what is she telling me? That either she has stopped dating and is seeing me exclusively, or that she’s still dating other men. I’m going with the latter. I don’t care. I just feel bad for the other saps like me, buying her food and drinks all the time.

We pull into the parking lot of the restaurant. She drives right up near the restaurant looking for a close spot. I tell her there were lots of spots in the back. She doesn’t like this idea. My father never understood why people always wanted to park right on top of a place. He would call them, lazy gasoline asses. He would always park a bit away so we could walk and get some exercise. Plus, it’s easier to leave a place when your car is closer to the exits. So because I was raised like this I don’t like her attitude in regard to parking.

We go into the place and I check our coats. She has a reservation, which is good. It looks like a popular spot. The brunch crowd is good. Apparently, this is her favorite spot to hang out. She seems to know the staff very well.

It’s some sort of Asian fusion place. They seat us at this little table against the wall. It’s one of these little booths where you have to sit next to the person you’re with. Then pull the table in towards you. I don’t really care for this kind of set up. I don’t need to be right next to someone when I’m eating. The manager comes over and greets her, and she introduces me. She announces that it’s her birthday like she was eight. I kind of hate adults that make a big deal about their birthdays. The manager says that her brunch is on the house, but she was so busy projecting, I don’t think she heard him.

Of course she orders champagne, so I do the same. They bring us plates and tell us it’s a buffet. I’m not really a fan of buffets. You don’t know who’s been touching the food. You don’t know how long it’s been sitting out. You tend to overeat sometimes. Just not a fan. I’m thinking a lot of overweight people like buffets. They can eat as much as they like.

I load up my plate and return to the table. The table is really small, and I don’t really like it. But I’ll be good because it’s her special day. I actually went back for seconds.

After brunch the bill comes, and of course she doesn’t go near it. I knew I’d be paying because it’s her birthday. She just isn’t valuable enough to me for me to keep this up. And frankly, this could be the last time I ever see her. The good news is, the bill was only $39 for everything, so that’s not too bad.

I get our coats, and we’re back in the car. Now she wants to go to Ridley Lake Park out in Delaware County.

 

Tune in tomorrow for the conclusion of this story.

 

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Michelle – Chapter 13 – Domestic Bliss and a Happy New Year

Is that a picture of my ass on that wall?

2008 was an amazing year. Barak Obama was elected President, The Philadelphia Phillies won the World Series, and Michelle was my girlfriend. That’s a hat trick if there ever was one.

Michelle was one of several people who got laid off while the company we were working for was once again trying to figure out what it wanted to be. (Print going bankrupt again!) I remember the day it happened she went out and bought me an Ipod for my birthday. I was very grateful and it was a wonderful and thoughtful gift. I love music and I couldn’t believe how technology could put a thousand songs into something the size of a pack of gum. It’s pound for pound the best gift anyone has ever given me, and I don’t like presents. I’d always rather give that receive.

Michelle started working as a hostess at a local restaurant. She hated it because now she had to stand there and watch people do the very thing that she and I enjoyed doing. She also took a job at a local retail store here in center city. Looking back on that now, that had to be tough on her. She went from making good money at a dot.com to being on her feet all day and night and doing something she wasn’t even interested in. She did finally get a good gig with a great company. Better than when she worked with me at the publication. It was a non-profit that was at the forefront of organ donation. This job would serve her well and help catapult her into a great career in the future!

She was fed up with her bitch faced, passive aggressive roommate, and I think that chick was leaving when the lease was up anyway. I wanted to move to Philly and get out of living in Pennsauken, NJ. So with us being in love, we decided to get a place together. That normally had been the kiss of death for me, because I like my alone time. But we really got along and I figured we’d be alright.

We got a third floor two bedroom apartment in Graduate Hospital, which is the neighborhood just south of Rittenhouse. Penn Medicine now runs the hospital complex down there now, but people still call the neighborhood by its former name. It was a beautiful apartment. Everything was brand new. The instructions were still in the oven. It had all of the amenities. Michelle picked a two bedroom because my daughter Lorelei stayed with me every other weekend. She did a wonderful job of finding a home for us in Philly and I love her for that. We have so many great memories in that place.

I remember the night she showed me the apartment. The realtor was late. (He is a very powerful real estate mogul in the city today) We ended up going to Ten Stone, (A neighborhood bar at 20th and South) Michelle put it to me… “Are we doing this?”

We split the rent and the bills but eventually I think I paid the utilities and half the rent because I earned more. One thing I never took into account was that the reason we had to pay $1650 a month was for the second bedroom that was for my kid that visited twice a month. In hindsight I should have paid more of the rent back then and all of the utilities. Sadly, back then I was paying $600 a month in child support to the Gorgon sister I call my ex-wife. But Michelle was always on point with pulling her share. But I know I should have always paid more.

We moved all of our stuff from both apartments in one day. It was brutal. My whole body hurt for a week after that massive move. We did it all with a single U-haul van I rented for $100. Her building charged her $100 to use the elevator for the day to move. Fuckin’ exit fees.

We didn’t care. We got plowed at Continental midtown the night before, but we made it work. We got all of our shit moved in and it was in piles of boxes all over the living room. I think we went for pizza at Lorenzo’s that night to celebrate our new life together.

It was fun living together for the most part. The holidays were coming and my daughter Lorelei and I went out and got a tree and set it up in the living room. It was so funny. It was like a Norman Rockwell moment. Michelle was working and we wanted to surprise her. My daughter and I walked from 18th and Kater to 4th and South, (Which is a hike) to pick out a tree. We found a great bushy one and proceeded to carry it by hand all the way home. I only had one pair of gloves so I gave one to baby and I wore the other one. Lorelei carried the top, (Which was lighter) and I carried the trunk. We took breaks because it was heavy, and switched gloves. It smelled so good! Pine Christmas sap! I love that smell! People were coming out of their homes and taking pictures of me and my daughter carrying our christmas tree across the city. They were going mad about our Rockwell moment. I don’t know how Lorelei felt about it but as always, she was a trooper.

We all decorated it and it looked beautiful. Michelle had lots of great ornaments that either she or her mother used to stress about. I don’t remember why. Maybe because there was some holiday history in those ornaments. I remember later she really stressed about those ornaments. I know Michelle didn’t really give a shit because she’s like me, (no pageantry) but her mom did.

One of our favorite things to do was to sit on the loveseat in our living room and watch movies and different TV series on Netflix. Michelle’s mother had bought her a 50″ flat screen for Christmas and it was glorious. We would binge watch on the weekends. Just eat, drink wine and smoke cigarettes. Sometimes Michelle would bring out the inflatable mattress and stretch out on that on the floor. She loved that thing just to rest her beautiful body after a week of work.

Another thing we enjoyed was sitting at the kitchen counter, (resembled a bar) and we would listen to music and just chat and drink. Sometimes we’d bust out Scattergories and play that. Michelle being a former National Champion swimmer, was very competitive and didn’t like to lose. Things could get intense during those board game sessions. I actually remember her getting mad at me if I got a little far ahead. I always liked that about her. She had that champion spirit. I’d be sweet to her, but still liked whipping her ass in the game. But I never wanted girlfriend to be mad at me because I loved her so much.

On any given night you could catch us slow dancing in the living room to the sounds of Johnny Mathis, Frank Sinatra, or Roy Orbison. It was a lovely time.

We were making so much noise one night our crazy neighbors downstairs were throwing pretzel bites over our balcony to get us turn it down! The bites were hitting the sliding glass doors, but I think secretly they wanted us to play more Johnny Mathis!

We didn’t go out and terrorize the city anymore. We watched the entire run of The Sopranos and all of Six Feet Under. I remember us both sobbing at the end of the final episode of Six Feet Under. We were both equally blown away by the show.

We even cried uncontrollably at Marley and Me. I don’t know why but we loved that movie together. (Watch it. Maybe you can explain it to me. We’re not pet owners)

It was New Years Eve, and we were just coming back from brunch, or something, and Michelle wanted to stop in a women’s apparel store called Couer. It’s on 17th around Sansom. We go in, and She’s looking at lingerie and what not and I’m just checking the place out. I get to the counter and they have this huge black and white photo. It’s a huge picture of a woman’s posterior in a thong, holding a fuzzy kitten backwards. So you see this cute cat’s face and her ass. I’m looking at it, and the photo seems familiar. It’s gorgeous and tasteful. Great ass and cute kitty.

Suddenly, I hear Michelle’s voice from behind me. “Is that MY ass?”

“Don’t we have an 8×10 of that photo from your modeling days somewhere in the apartment?”

“Oh my God! That’s me!!!”

“Wait…what?”

We tell the person working there, and we all get a good laugh. We can’t believe that giant photo is there. It’s Michelle’s delicious bum from her days as a Reinhart model. The shoot was discussed, as was the kitten and the photographer.

“He’s still here.”

“Who the photographer?” I say, puzzled.

“No. This guy.” And another lady comes walking out from the back with a big old grumpy Persian cat in her arms.

“Holy crap! That’s the little kitten in the picture?”

“Yep. He’s like ten years old now.”

We were blown away and left laughing and saying how this New Years Eve was already getting crazy. It really seemed that everything we did or touched made something happen. (That’s what happens when two people are in love and the world is open to them)

So we were invited to join a former co-worker of ours to see the fireworks and grab food down at Penn’s Landing for New Years Eve. It was a bitter cold night. (We’re talking teens) It was impossible to get a taxi, and UBER and Lyft did not yet exist in Philadelphia. But I had an idea. We walked out to the corner and were trying to get a taxi, when the idea struck me. We were right near this place we always ordered pizza from. I saw one of the delivery guys and said hello. I told him I’d give him $20 if he’d drive us to Old City.

His response was, “Get in.”

We hop in the back of his pizza delivery car and off we go. He stops at a house nearby and delivers a pizza. It was surreal. Then we’re off again. He gets us to our destination. We thank him and out we go.

I think we were at the Mexican Post in Old City. We had probably been drinking before and we drank more when we got to the restaurant. It was nice to see my friend and his wife, but at that time I didn’t know any of the other people at the party. They were a bunch of IT and tech nerd types.

Just picture the creepy shy girl who looks like she could kill you in your sleep if you ate the last of her Ben & Jerry’s. Or the nerdy guy that has no table manners and chews with his mouth open. That’s just the result of some sort of parental neglect of some kind.

We finish up and head down to Penn’s Landing. It is really cold now on the Delaware River. The fireworks are great but all I can remember is the penetrating bone chilling cold. (And I’m sure Michelle feels the same)

Somehow we got a taxi back to midtown and actually went to the Midtown Diner on 18th Street. It was packed and I think I ate a cheese steak and fries. Michelle told me when she went to use the bathroom there was vomit everywhere so she used the Men’s room instead.

That’s what I hate about New Years and for that matter any other holiday where every swinging dick in the city is out drinking like they’re Duff McKagen in the 80’s. St.Patrick’s Day lasts like three weeks in this city. It makes me just want to leave the city for those  weeks.

So there isn’t much to write here about this time. We were done with going out and getting loaded every night. No more crashed parties, no more crazy events. Even though we could sit down at anytime and reminisce about all of our deviltry, it would be for nostalgia’s sake. I think our domestic time together were some of our best times. We enjoyed each others company and some of our best memories have come from that calm tranquil period in our relationship.

I think Michelle would agree.

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

 

 

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