California Dreaming – 1982 to 1984 – Alika – Hot Girl, Heroin, Beverly Hills, and Reggie the Cat Converge

This is one of my all time favorite stories!

I met an incredibly hot Armenian airhead named Alika. She came into the bar where my band was playing with some of her other hot girlfriends, and we chatted after our set. There were warning signs that she was a tad bit shallow, not going to lie. This girl’s credit card was platinum, and she drove a convertible Maserati and lived in her parent’s Beverly Hills mansion.

She was completely vapid but oh, so hot. We dated for a few months and everything’s fine. I just did my best to ignore/overlook when she did things I didn’t like… specifically talking.

The holidays came and went. We had a few very fun sleepover parties while her parents were out of town. I’d never met them. Alika was like a tiger in the sack. I felt like a burnt matchstick after a few of our sessions together.

Alika gets the bright idea to invite me over and meet her parents who were hosting a New Years party. Normally I’d skip that but I was curious about trying to see what kind of parents produce a vapidly oblivious, self obsessed, airhead with the common sense of a squirrel crossing a highway. Besides I’d drunk enough of their booze and eaten enough of their caviar and I’d banged their daughter for 3 months or so at this point, so I thought why not? I was a nineteen year old guitarist from Philly. So have at it!

From the moment I met them I got a very distinctly “chilly” reception. I usually gel pretty well with parents of girls I’ve dated. The mother who looked like a grown up version of her daughter and the father looked like he couldn’t remember his own kids names. Polite but certainly chilly.

They kept making pointed comments. Pointing out to me where the bathrooms were without being prompted. Pointing out that the floors were hardwood and that they had “many, many bathrooms.” I was confused by the fact that 1 out of 4 conversations all somehow led to me being directed to the nearest bathroom.

At the end of the night I wished them both goodnight and her mother said she was glad to see “I was still on the wagon.” I smiled through it. As soon as the door closed I had a big “WTF was that all about?!” conversation with Alika.

Long story short Alika has a 100 year old cat named Reggie. And her parents have a 100+ year old Persian rug that Reggie soiled on one of the nights I slept over. Apparently vapid girl was afraid of Reggie getting put to sleep by angry vengeful parents for ruining the rug. So Alika helpfully made up a story that I she had been helping me detox from heroin and that in a fit of withdrawal I’d soiled their prized antique Persian rug!

Mind you this was a few months back and her parents have been under the impression that I was fresh out of rehab after a horrific addiction to pills and heroin. She also told them that she had helped me through the worst of it and that I’m deep in a drug withdrawal stupor and had lost all bladder control and that I had no memory of destroying the rug.

So…rich parents…spawned a spoiled habitually lying rich girl…owned a fat tabby cat with serious digestive tract problems…the guy who’s in a band and has only smoked weed and drank beer is suddenly a horrific heroin addict who in a drug induced haze soiled an $80,000 prized family heirloom antique rug.

 

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Cherie – Chapter 23 – Friday the 13th

“It’s all I think about. I have to masturbate everyday, just to take the edge off. I need you to fuck me.”

It was obviously Friday the 13th. I wasn’t even aware of it all day, until Cherie text me about it that afternoon. I sent her a meme of Jason Voorhees pushing people as he walked down an escalator. Cherie loves horror movies, so I knew she’d enjoy that.

I blazed out of work around 2:30, and walked over to the salon, to work until 8pm.  The night was uneventful, but it had been a bit of a hectic week. Last weekend was full of social stuff and this week had its share of challenges.

I was just looking forward to stopping at the store and picking up my favorite pretzels, (The little square cracker-like ones with peanut butter in them) two bottles of club soda, and a pack of cigs. I just wanted to disappear for one night and not talk to anyone. Just me and Netflix continuing our ongoing, intimate affair. Maybe I’ll even smoke a little grass.

Closing time rolls around and I’m just finishing up. Normally I would be off Saturday, but I agreed to switch with Trish so she could visit her family. So tonight I could chill, but I’d be back here by 10:30 next morning. I’ll take what repose I can get, now that I’m back to working sixty hours a week between the two jobs.

I’m getting my coat, and I get a text from Cherie. “What are you doing?” I am about to pick up the trash to take it out, when I see a woman standing out in the dark hallway.

It’s Cherie! I am shocked and surprised. She’s all bundled up because it’s cold outside. But shess wearing a white headband, and her glasses. I notice that she curled her hair. It’s a tangle of shining ribbons of coal. She looks like a sexy librarian. “What are you doing here?”

“We talked about this last weekend.”

“We did?”

“I mean, I think we did. I can get on the train and go back if you’re upset.”

I grab her and kiss her. She tries to turn away from me, but I know she’s just teasing me. “You’re not getting back on any train. I’m sorry, I just need a teeny bit of heads up, that’s all, dear.”

Well, it looks like of instead of sitting in a chair getting drunk with my two favorite mistresses, (Vodka & Netflix) I get to spend the evening and morning with my very real girlfriend! Great, unexpected way to kick off the weekend. I’ll chill tomorrow night after work.

We get back to the bat cave, and thankfully, daughter Lorelei isn’t home. I lock the door and hit the flashlight on my phone, and lead her back to my bedroom.

There is some small talk, but the inevitable is going to happen. When I say “inevitable,” I mean “training for the sex olympics.”

I’m getting better at this. When I was with Annabelle, Our relationship was so fractured and disjointed due to her personality disorder, I never knew what was going to happen next. Just a confused soul. (See: Annabelle – Guy Walks Into a Bar) But with Cherie, everything’s cool. She’s a calming force in my life and incredibly grounded in her sexuality. Out of every woman I’ve ever met, she is truly the best. Sexuality is all in the biggest sex organ of your body; your mind. Her head, heart, and bod are all correctly aligned. She’s comfortable with her vessel, and makes it sing.

And I love playing a Stradivarius.

She says she misses me sexually when we are apart too long. “It’s all I think about. I have to masturbate everyday, just to take the edge off. I need you to fuck me.”

Cherie is a nymphomaniac, but very loyal. She loves sex, but isn’t reckless with her mind and body. I really couldn’t have created a better girlfriend.

I’m not going into what happened in my bedroom. This is a dating and relationship blog. Things got hot and passionate till about midnight. We woke up at 3am, (or she woke me up) and some more magic occurred. We both slept again until 6:45, and more fun ensued. Cherie is a sexual animal. She’s really a good match for me. I’ve never met anyone like her. I’m just glad that at my age I can keep up with her and leave her satisfied.

The great thing is, shark week is over, and the stress and mess are gone. It’s winter. She’ll be going back to school next week. She’s only working the one job now at Children’s Hospital. It was Friday the 13th, and a pretty black kitty crossed my path. Nothing but good luck.

Our time together is limited, due to our busy schedules. I want to take her to things; like dinner, movies and events, but right now a few hours is all we have.

And we celebrate and share it accordingly, with our most precious possessions. The only thing we came into this world with…

Ourselves.

 

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Rosalie’s Rodents

Philadelphia, PA – 1974

When I was in sixth grade, this kid Tommy Goodwin (Who was actually bad) brought in these cute baby mice into school for show and tell. They were adorable. I remember at the time I was in love with this girl named Rosalie. I remember what love felt like back then too. It was sitting next to her in school. It was holding hands with her when they were showing a film in class about something. (Because the lights were out) It was passing notes with little sentiments like, “Do you like me?” with Yes and a No box next to the words. I did kiss her once near the end of the school year in the vestibule by the front door. My heart swooned!

Anyway, Rosalie tells me she wants me to get her some mice and stuff. Of course me being a big shot and trying to be cool around her tell I can do it. She brings in $10 the next day. Where an 11-year-old girl got a ten spot back in 1974 I’ll never know. I never had any money.  Let alone a whole ten dollars!

So me and my friend Michael go to the pet store on Rising Sun Avenue (In Northeast Philly) and go scope out some mice.  We ask the guy running the store where are the mice, and he says he doesn’t have any. But he does have some hamsters. We go look at the hamsters and they look even cuter than the mice! I buy about four or five of them and some hamster food.

I don’t even remember how we got them home. I can’t tell my parents about this because of a myriad of reasons. I shouldn’t be taking money from other kids. Other kids shouldn’t be giving me said money to buy them pets. No parents are involved in the transaction. Does this girl’s parents know they are getting a family of hamsters tomorrow?

There is a big wooden board about five feet wide and eight feet tall against the wall in my garage. I had a plastic aquarium out there behind that board. I once had tadpoles in it and watched as they metamorphosized into frogs. It was really a brilliant thing to witness first hand. The legs pop out first. Then one arm (Apparently the arm forms on whatever side is closer to the lungs as they develop) than the other arm, and it’s cool because you can hold them. They just look like skinnier tadpoles with arms and legs and a shorter tail. You can hold them and they can’t hop away and they’re breathing air. Kids like to hold stuff rather than just look at stuff.

They eventually became complete frogs and literally hopped away! It was great. We enjoyed the first part of their journey with them!

So I put the hamsters in the container and give them a bunch of food and cover the top. (Don’t worry they can breathe)

The next day I go into school and tell my beloved that I have acquired sort of what she wanted. I tell her they didn’t have any mice but I got her something even better. Cute hamsters. She tells me her mom won’t let her have hamsters or mice and to just keep them. I try to give her the change from the ten and she doesn’t want that either. She apologizes if there is any trouble but she just can’t take them.

I think my family would be cool with me keeping them in the garage and taking care of them, but this was a shady transaction where I took money from another child and bought hamsters. I’m sure they would see it that way, and I should have known better and would have gotten in trouble. I was in trouble enough back then. So I decided to thicken the plot by keeping the hamsters a secret.

But here’s the problem. My family was going down the shore for the summer. Who would feed my hamsters?

I hit up my friend Michael and he says he’ll stop over and check on them every couple of days. I thank him profusely.

So we go to the shore for the summer. A couple of weeks go by. Back then my dad still worked at the bank in Philly. He would just come down on the weekends to hang with the family. It was a good time. We were all happy and we’d build big sandcastles in the morning. (My dad was hands down the best sandcastle empire builder in North Wildwood) All of the kids would work on it and then we would watch as the high tide would come up and destroy it!

It was awesome!

One weekend he comes down. We’re sitting at dinner and he says to my mom, “I think we may have a rodent problem in our garage.”

My fork grinds to a halt on the way to my mouth.

“Yea, they’re cute little guys though.”

My sisters are saying it’s gross, etc. Then the conversation moves onto another topic.

So I call Michael from a payphone around the corner, just to cover my tracks. Don’t want any pesky phone records to foil my plan to keep my ill-gotten hamsters a secret.

“My dad said he saw one of the hamsters in the garage!”

“Really?”

“Are you still going over to check on them and feeding them?”

“Yea, but…”

“But what?”

“Sometimes I can’t get in the garage and sometimes I forget.”

I’m thinking it’s the latter.

“Well maybe you could go in there and just take the whole aquarium and hide it somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know. Think of something.”

 

So the next weekend, my dad comes down. We’re sitting down to dinner.

“Did you see any more of the mice in the garage, Dad? I say meekly.

“Yea, quite a few.”

“Oh…”

“But I put some traps down and got ’em all.”

CHILDHOOD… TRAUMATIZED.

I hope you all enjoyed this funny little story. I remember my sisters and parents went insane laughing years later when I told them the untold true story of Rosalie’s Rodents!

Here’s an old love letter I found from little Rosalie.

 

 

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Yvonne – Ms. Im-Purr-fect

She climbed on top of me, removed her shirt and started rubbing her face and lips on me.

After chatting with Yvonne on Tinder and thinking this girl I met was normal for an extended period of time, I decided to take her out on a date.

We met at the stores inside of Two Liberty. I thought she was attractive in a girlish sort of way. Dark brown hair. Nearly black. Lean fit body and long, slender legs. Somewhere on the right side of twenty-five. She seemed to like what she saw in me. After looking through a few stores, she grabbed my hand and asked if I wanted something to eat and drink. We then went to the food court where she told me to order anything I wanted. I ordered a sandwich and soda. I asked her what she was having and she said, “half of yours.”
I have learned to share, but I don’t like that answer.

With that said, we proceeded to share our sandwich. At one point she looked over and me and said “meooooow-meoooww” and winked. Not knowing what that meant, I just ignored it. She meowed at me a total of about 5 times during the date. One time I meowed back and then realized how weird this was. I asked her about it and she said she would explain later.

The whole evening she was making cat noises. I shit you not. Cat noises. Now I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt and maybe she was nervous or drunk. She seemed like she had been drinking or doing something before our date.

The date went okay, despite the obvious feline weirdness. But the very next morning she sends me a text with a cat emoji and the word ‘meow’. I even ignored that and we dated one more time. (because she had lovely legs) Not only did the cat noises continue but she climbed on top of me at my apartment, removed her shirt and starting rubbing her face and lips on me while doing the cat noises.

I then told her it was getting late. I told her I would walk her to the UBER. Once at the car she looked at me, said “meow” again and proceeded to nuzzle against my shoulder like a cat would do. She quickly went from shoulder to chest, and looked up and purred and proclaimed “Me want to be your kitty. Kitty likes you”.

My answer to this was “Huh? Are you kidding me?”

“Kitty wants head scratched,” she replied.

Against my better judgment, I scratched her head and she said “Kitty wants to go home with you every night”.

I replied “Okay, kitten, play time is over.”

We then said goodbye.

She was extremely attractive, so being the idiot I was I went out with her again. (I do love cats. Even the two-legged variety!)

She was a submissive, so she basically asked me to control her in public in exchange for more whiskey (obviously I obliged). We ended up going to her apartment together where I discovered she had 5 cats that all had human names. She baby-talked to all of them, and they were super possessive of her, to the point of slamming themselves against her bedroom door trying to get in when we were in bed together. I soldiered through some awkward sex, She gave me a cat charm, and I ran the hell out of there the next morning.

When I got home, she left me a voicemail message asking to see me again. I replied via text that I didn’t think we were a good match.

She replied “Is that because you know I’m better looking than you? I mean, I’m at least a 9 and if you were thinner you would be a 7.”

I replied “Yes, that’s the reason.”  I then blocked kitten’s phone, text and email.

I hope she found a nice warm home with a clean litter box, and lots of treats!

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