Keila – 2012 to 2017 – The Gaza Stripper – This Side Of The Coin

My Family – Lorelei – 11/17/1996 to Present – The Apple of My Eye

When I began writing this story, I thought I would only cover certain topics. Mainly, my life in Philadelphia over the last ten years. The focus of Phicklephilly is romance and dating. But while on this journey, I realized my life is rich with so many other great characters, I should add them to the Phicklephilly universe.

So let me introduce you to my lovely daughter Lorelei. She turned 20 years old two months ago. Lor has always been a sweet, and easy-going child. Now a young woman. I am very proud of her, and its great watching her grow up and flourish. She’ll be occasionally popping up in my stories.

Her mom and I divorced when she was three and a half years old. She lived with her mom, and came to me every other weekend. This went on for many years. I’m not going to go into all of the details of my divorced life because that’s not what this forum is all about.That blog would be called, Nightmare in New Jersey.

One thing I never agreed with, was her mother putting her on ADD medicine when she was a little girl. But happily when Lor  was thirteen she came told me that she wasn’t going to take that shit anymore, because it wouldn’t allow her to perform in a dramatic way on stage. How fucked up is that?

Let’s have big pharma brainwash a bunch of stupid parents, and turn their creative and rambunctious children into dull robots, and life long drug addled customers. Just so we can make even more money for the stockholders. Pure evil.

There once was a kid whose teachers described him as unreachable. A boy lost in his dreams. Yea… that dude was Albert Einstein. Let’s crush any future Einsteins or Leonardo Di Vinci’s with a bunch of drugs. Shame on you all. And damn you all for what you’ve done. I was very proud that my daughter had the foresight to see what that junk was doing to her body and mind. So she kicked that shit years ago.

Anyway, Lorelei had become tired of the grinding frustration of living with her mother in New Jersey. Her mother’s 2nd ex-husband after me, was usually the blame, but once they divorced and he went back to Arizona, she was out of excuses. My daughter was and A – B student who was a beloved member of her high school’s theatrical group. She was lead soprano in a musical in 2014, and co-star of the musical they performed her senior year in 2015. This was a good kid. You have to wonder why life with her mother was so hard. What do we ask of our children growing up? Do well in school, and behave yourself. Lorelei was doing that and more. But I was married to that harpy for 8 years, and I know what kind of fresh hell it can be for anyone to live with my Lorelei’s mother.

My daughter was having stomach disorders, and anxiety living with her mother. Being in that hell house with her mother had for years been an extremely difficult place to be. Sad thing was, I split after 8 years, her second husband amazingly lasted a full ten years before he left. But Lorelei couldn’t leave. She was a child. She was like a prisoner under the ragged claws of her mother. But once she reached the age of majority she wanted to escape. She turned 18, and by February of 2015, she asked if she could come live with me. “Daddy, I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to if it’ll get me away from her.” Of course she wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor, and I would never turn my child away. So I told her to come live with me in Philly.

There was an obvious shit storm that ensued. Her mother likes to control everything, but lacks any real control over her own life. But my daughter was 18 years old. She could do what she wanted. She could vote, buy a gun, and serve in the military if she wanted. So technically, there was nothing her mom could do about it. She fought it of course, but I think we even had my daughter’s high school on our side. They realized her mom is crazy and were fed up with her nonsense as well.

But all aside, I forgive her mother. It takes too much of ones time and energy to hold a grudge against someone. That is some bad energy that you have to maintain everyday. It’s just a waste of time. You only have to forgive once, and your mind is free.

Lorelei would get herself up at dawn everyday at my house in center city. She would walk in the winter weather to the PATCO station and take the train into Jersey everyday by herself. In the beginning she actually was having anxiety attacks at the end of each day, because she was expecting something bad to happen. She discussed this with me, and it seemed like a form of post traumatic stress disorder from living with her mother. I understand that. You never knew who, or what you were coming home to. I reassured Lor that nothing was going to happen. I was putting her on an allowance, and if she needed anything to let me know. I was always here for her, and she was now safe. All she would be coming home to would be her Dad sitting in his chair, sipping a glass of wine and watching Netflix. Nothing more. In a few weeks she settled in just fine. She’d get up and go to school in Jersey every morning 5 days a week. She did this until she graduated in June of 2015. She graduated with good grades on a Friday, and started working as a hostess in restaurant here in Philly the following Tuesday.

She has since gone from vegetarian to vegan. She eats a balanced diet, and is lean and fit. Her stomach disorders are gone, and she no longer takes any of the medicines her mother put her on. She works at her job and likes it. I let her live her life.

I love her very much, and would do anything for my baby. She’ll always be the apple of my eye. My one and only daughter. My immortality in this world.

I have always believed it’s not as hard as everyone thinks to be a parent. Just give your children love, good information, manners, consistency and discipline. I’m sure there is more to it than that, but that’s a decent foundation.

I always looked at parenting this way. I am the Archer. Lorelei is the Arrow.  I need to be firm when I hold the bow. But I also need to be flexible like the string. I must cast the Arrow straight and true into tomorrow, for that is a place I can never go.

Tomorrow belongs to our children. Try not to fuck it up.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday at 9am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly

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

Carol – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction – Part 3

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

When we last left out hero, he was hanging out in his office, with Carol. She’s about to drop an atomic bomb on him.

So we’re at the office and she has to call her mom and go around and around with her about it for a while and I’m like, “what am I doing here? This is painful.” So I just plow the vodka into me and after a while I’m chill and can deal with her. So eventually she calmed down after talking to her mom. I know there was some talk about her and her mom making some other ring out of something and Carol getting some kind of tattoo. To me…all a waste of time but her, it’s not my family. So at one point out of the blue she says to me the following words:

“Do you think I’m fat?”

Guys… fair warning here. I’m about to tell you what to do in this situation if it ever happens to you. Because this one is a biggie. Great thing is if you are a dog owner or a pet owner of any kind, just remember, your pet will never ask you shit like this. I’m really good at navigating the treacherous waters of the emotions of the fairer sex.

Okay. This is important. Here’s what we know:

You realize there’s no way I can possibly answer this and not have her upset one way or the other. If you think you look fat but don’t look fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll think I’m lying. If you don’t think you look fat but don’t look fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll think I’m just flattering you. If you do think you look fat and you are fat, and I say you don’t, you’ll know I’m lying. If, regardless of circumstances I say you look fat, you’ll be hurt and insulted. It’s nearly an unwinnable game that no man should have the misfortune to ever have to play.

Here are some options:

“Do you think I’m fat?”

  1. Carol you are a beautiful woman and perfect just the way you are.
  2. No! (be adamant)  I think you’re gorgeous.
  3. Here’s a bracelet. (Then run away really fast)

Unfortunately… I did none of the above. Normally I’m deadly with words and deeds and diplomacy when it comes to girls but I don’t know if it was the booze, the exhaustion, or the ringing in my ears from her last tirade, or a lethal combination of all three, but I said the following:

“I suppose we all could be in a little better shape.”

Cut to: Atomic bomb exploding.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have spoken to several of my friends about this incident and everyone agrees that my answer was wrong. Dead wrong. Again, I don’t know why I said it, but it came out. If I could have somehow reached out with my hands and pulled the words back and shoved them into my stupid gaping maw, I would have. But it was too late. Well Carol got very angry and stormed out of my office and left the building in a huff. On my way home I received the following drunken text from her:

“Home… About to exercise and diet and make myself throw up to be thin. I can’t wait to have an eating disorder so I look attractive to you. By the way, I am amazed at your 6 pack and your figure, you are fit amazingly attractive God!!! You are so fit and built. Noooo extra belly fat on you! Night. Hope I lose weight so someone like you finds me attractive… But I can only hope since I’m so fat.”

That is some angry volatile shit right there.

Realizing there were several factors that came together to cause this cataclysmic explosion of rage, I decided to not respond and just let her cool off. Besides, she’s not my girlfriend. Sure I fucked up. I broke the code. It happens. But did I deserve such a wicked verbal attack? Maybe not so much. I just decided to let the cards fall where they would. A week later, I got a big apology text from her. I kind of would have liked it in person, followed by some passionate kissing but in the long run. Apology accepted. So it was business as usual with us. The occasional Saturday bar hop. She had recently secured a job out in Plymouth Meeting at a recruitment firm. Recruitment is a tough job. I know people who do it and it’s tough. They are really hard workers and understand how the employer vs employee dynamic works and locking down the talent. It isn’t much money at first but if you work your ass off and keep at it the rewards can be great, but it is a grind that takes time. Like anything with high reward.

So I knew I’d be seeing less of her and it would be a struggle based on her history to get up at the alarm every morning and drive to work and be on time everyday. Stuff I take for granted that’s easy for me is sometimes really difficult for others. But these are basic functions to stay in step with humanity. get up, go to work and do your job. Repeat. So I hope she makes it.

She had been going to my friend’s tanning salon every Sunday because I had secured a deal there for her. But the deal ran out and she stopped coming. She said she found a cheaper place on her way home from work out in Rockledge or something. No sunburned skin off my nose.  I knew I would hear less and less from her because she was busy with her work and hanging on there and probably sleeping on the weekends because believe you me getting her going before 2pm on the weekends is normally a miracle. Which brings me to the latest incident.

She reached out to me on August 23rd of last week in a text and said:

Carol: “I miss hanging out. Can we hang soon?”

Me: “I’m available Saturday.”

Carol: Ok. We should do a Carol and (My Name) Day. I called you (My Name) which I never do.”

Me: “I’m fine with that. I’ll mark my calendar.”

Carol: “But not too early.”

Me: “Of course. Mid afternoonish is cool.”

Carol: “Ok. Let’s do it. I’ll set a reminder for myself.”

Me: 🙂

Last Saturday arrived and I figured I’d get a text around 3pm and then she may make it out sometime after that. I know it sucks. It’s like the whole day is wasted instead of me and Carol. I went to visit a friend of mine at her work and chatted awhile about it. Earlier in the week some people had done the perfunctory, ” Any plans for this weekend?” and I’d say I’m going to hang with Carol. But Saturday the hands of time went round and round without a word from Carol. My friend who I had been chatting with that day said, “When that happens to me I just assume they are really hung over or dead.” That’s great, I said but I don’t like being stood up. And when I really look at my life I really don’t have time for a handful like Carol. You may start to see a trend as I go forward with this blog, but it will all make sense in the near future why this sort of nonsense happens with these women.

So I went home, fixed myself a vodka and tonic, lit a cig and continued watching the Netflix exclusive series, Stranger Things. (Great show! Check it out.)

I went to Carol’s name in my phone and blocked her.  I need to make sure I only surround myself with people who value me. I have also recently blocked her on Instagram and Facebook. So I’m done with her.

Fucking Crickets!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Carol – There’s No Fun in Dysfunction – Part I

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

I was introduced to Carol by a friend of mine who works as an event director for a center city restaurant. I was literally sitting at the bar and my friend walks up with Carol, and says “Can you babysit this one for a while and I’ll meet you next door in a little bit.” Carol and I immediately hit it off and were chatting and laughing. We went to Square 1682 for a drink. Carol seemed fun. She has  a nice face, long brown hair she’s probably 5’4″ green eyes and is somewhat voluptuous. Very busty. She recently cut her hair to shoulder length and donated it to make wigs for cancer kids, so that’s a nice gesture.

I liked her well enough. She was bubbly and fun to be around. I did notice that her regular speech was peppered with profanity to the point where I would have to say something. I can trust a person that uses the whole language but too much cursing is just a lazy mind’s way of expressing itself. Something I also noticed that when she would drink she’d become very intense about whatever it was she was talking about. Sometimes it seemed overpowering and I can see how that would drive people away from her. But we had fun that night and I saw a green light so I went in for a kiss but she deflected it. I thought I saw a green light but apparently it was turning from yellow to red!

So after that night I didn’t see her for a while but I ran into her one evening. She was coming from her latest job and was on her way home. She worked at some start-up here in the city. We chatted and decided to have a drink. We get there and she is drinking, and getting excited and loud and as usual a little profane. It was actually painful for me to be sitting there. I was feeling stressed just listening to her. Then she saw someone she knew outside and went out to chat with them. We were in a bar I frequent so I was comfortable sitting there by myself. The bartender even looked at me like; “Dude, I feel your pain.” She got me a whiskey just to soothe my nerves.

Carol had mentioned she was supposed to meet her friend for birthday drinks down at some bar down in midtown village or as some call it the gayborhood. Her friend who was having the birthday is gay so it would stand to reason. I can’t remember the name of the place but it’ll come to me. Carol hadn’t come back from whoever she was talking to outside and I wanted to go see my friend who worked the door over at Ashton Cigar Bar, so I settled up at Square 1682 and text Carol that I had to leave. Frankly I was relieved to get away from her.

So I’m chatting with my friend at Ashton sipping a drink and smoking a cig so I’m calm and happy now. Carol texts me and asks me what I’m doing. I tell her I’m at Ashton. I know I shouldn’t have done that but I had already had a few drinks in me and was feeling fine on a Friday. So she comes to Ashton and gets carded by my friend. As a sidebar here my friend has a good job but was bouncing just as a part-time gig. Anyone you ever met who has worked at a bar knows it’s a tough job. You have to deal with a bunch of drunk and arrogant people some of the time. So when Carol gave him a hard time when he carded her and may have called him an asshole, my buddy wanted to toss her out. But I smoothed things out. But his tolerance for that kind of nonsense is very low.

Carol begged me to go to the birthday thing with her and I was like what the hell by then. So I agreed. I find that the more alcohol I consume the easier it is to deal with her volatility. So we walked over and her friend was there. Surprisingly enough it was a great place. The people were friendly and I was having a good time. I even ran into a guy I had met in my business network there with his friend whom until that moment I didn’t know was gay.  I believe in live and let live, but when you’re in a bar you would never go to and you’re like, “I know that dude.” “Wait… that dude’s gay?”

Anyway we had a good old-time there and later Carol jumped in a taxi and I walked home.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly   twitter: @phicklephilly