It sounds good in theory. After years of toiling in the shallow end of the dating pool, the idea of going out with an older (and presumably more mature) person seems enticing. The media doesn’t help this notion. Movies and television shows have gone to great lengths to portray May-December relationships as the holy grail. Whether it’s films like The Graduate or Wedding Crashers, or even songs on the radio (yes, Stacy’s mom has got it goin’ on), the idea of dating somebody older has constantly been portrayed as a mystical, passionate opportunity you’d be a fool to miss out on. In reality, these relationships are more complicated than you might assume. These are the expectations and realities of dating somebody older than you.
Photo Credit: CBS Studios
Open for business: The Mandatory Do’s and Don’ts of Open Relationships
Expectation: Older Means Wiser and More Mature
Reality: Older Means Same Maturity and Fewer Excuses
Expectations say that when somebody is dating a person who is older than them, usually the older person will be the more mature of the two. In reality, this is hardly the case. Most of the time, older people will date younger people because of their own immaturity. Have you ever heard the idea that girls mature faster than boys? It’s true and these relationships are proof of that.
Expectation: Spending All Day in Bed in the Throes of Passion
Reality: Spending All Day in Bed….Period
It’s an old joke. Dating somebody who is older (aka a “cougar”) results in lots of great sex, right? That’s what all the movies and television shows say. Unfortunately for our hormonally-charged friends, this is rarely the case. Yes, older people like sex just as much as younger people do, but it’s not their lifeblood. There’s no magic trick one develops as they grow older that makes sex better. They might become less selfish, for sure. But that’s the only “trick” there is.
If you find yourself spending an exorbitant amount of time in bed, it’s probably because you’re both too tired to do anything but binge Netflix shows or Lifetime movies.
Expectation: A Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous
Reality: Nobody Can Even Retire Anymore
Our economy kind of sucks right now. The idea of “marrying for money” isn’t totally obsolete (yet), but it’s not as easy as the movies make it out to be. Very few people are actually super rich. The assumption that younger people marry older people for the money is not necessarily the case. Many of the older people in a relationship can’t even afford to properly retire these days, so those who date older people likely do so out of love.
Expectation: Trophy Dates and Gala Events
Reality: Local Bars and Passing Judgment
We’ve all seen this scene, or something like it: Anna Nicole Smith pushing her wheelchair-bound husband down a red carpet, or Ashton Kutcher sharing a kiss with Demi Moore at a movie premiere. Younger people at the arm of somebody older makes for an unusual but extremely photogenic moment.
Unfortunately, for most of us, it’s not red carpets or fashion shows that serve as our evening’s entertainment. Most of the time, it’s a local bar and the lights are dim and nobody actually even really cares.
And that’s the biggest reality check we can take from these relationships: nobody actually cares. So feel free to love who you want.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Why You Shouldn’t Shy Away From Dating an Older Woman
Some people, especially those in relationships with significant age gaps, like to say that age is just a number. Of course, this is true: When it comes to relationships where one partner is significantly older than the other, it’s not age that matters most. Instead, it’s all those other little things — shared hobbies and goals, similar temperaments, mutual respect and understanding — that typically determine whether or not a partnership between two people is built to last.
Older men have no problem dating younger women, and the opposite dynamic of older women dating younger men is becoming more common, too. But why? Why would a guy seek out a woman who is five (or more) years older than him? Maybe it’s because they’re in on a little secret that you haven’t quite figured out for yourself yet. If you can’t already guess, there are a lot of benefits to dating a more “seasoned” woman.
If you’re still skeptical, let these relationship experts impart their knowledge upon you. You’ll be a firm believer in no time.
She’ll Likely Have a Wider Worldview
With age comes experience and wisdom, which is precisely why we often turn to those older than us for advice about everyday problems. They’ve been around the block, leaving them equipped with plenty of knowledge that can change a younger person’s viewpoint on whatever issue they may be facing. The same applies in a dating context.
“Some older women are more sophisticated than younger women because they’ve had more time to experience life,” says relationship expert and author April Masini. “They know about more things than younger women might, and they have a lot to offer because of this wealth of experience. The conversation is going to cover a much broader swath of life than it might dating a younger woman. For someone who is just starting to date older women, their points of view, and the way they see the world may be new, fresh, and exciting. This new perspective will affect a man who is sensitive and attentive — he’ll acquire an expanded sensibility and he’ll have the benefit of her experiences.”
She’ll Already Be Financially Secure
As Chicago-based dating coach Tripp Kramer explains, the older a woman is, the higher the probability that she has her financial house in order.
“This is because she is either a) later in her career, (at which point) people generally make more money, or b) she has been through a divorce, which can also grant her more money,” says Kramer.
This isn’t always a done deal, of course, but there are older women out there looking for a young stud like yourself that they can dote on. According to Masini, “When it comes to money, older women dating younger men may be looking for someone they can take care of and mold. Other women may be looking for a younger man who has his own money; it really depends on the woman.”
She Knows What She Wants and Will Be Honest About It
Younger women, like younger men, are often still trying to figure themselves out — what they like, what they don’t; who they can see themselves with; what things in life matter most to them. Older women typically have these things figured out already.
“Because they have more life experience, older women usually don’t want to waste time when they already know what they want,” explains Masini. “They’re usually quicker to make decisions than younger women, who are still deciding what they like and don’t like.”
Emyli Lovz, a San Francisco-based dating coach for men, shares a similar sentiment. “She’s likely been down the rabbit hole of a bad relationship or two,” she adds. “She knows what she’s looking for and doesn’t want to waste her time on the same old guy again. Keep in mind: patterns are hard to break for anyone, so she might be avoidant at first, if you’re not her typical type. In these cases, it’s best to get good at overcoming objections.”
She’ll Have Plenty to Talk About
Growing up a generation apart, or even just at opposite ends of a particular generation, nearly equates with growing up in different universes. Because of this, conversations with an older woman provide an opportunity to expand your perspective in ways you otherwise wouldn’t.
“Assuming that you’re referring to women who might be 38 to 45 … you should have deeper and more meaningful conversations compared to dating a 22-year-old woman,” says Lovz. “She might be more versed in what happened in the real world while you were still in high school or even junior high.”
In fact, Lovz believes that “differences in age are similar to differences in culture,” explaining how what she’s gone through can help you get through any hardships of your own.
“They’re an opportunity to expand your perspective and step out of your own reality,” she adds. “Her experience can help you better understand various stages in your own life, too. She might be particularly helpful with transition periods like moving into a new role at work or navigating the purchase of your first home, if she’s already had life experiences like the ones you’re going through.”
She’ll Probably Have a Solid Amount of Sexual Experience
While it’s tough to generalize, older women will typically bring many years of sexual experience into a relationship with them, and there’s a good chance they will be able to teach you a thing or two in between the sheets.
“Generally speaking, the older she is, the more sex she has had,” explains Kramer. “So, if you are interested in kinkier types of activity or want to explore more of your sexual side, then it could be a great opportunity.”
If you’re looking to date an older woman, there are a number of places to meet one. Whether through friends or work, at a hotel lounge or upscale bar, through yoga class or via an app or website — wherever you may run into an attractive older woman that peaks your interest — don’t be afraid to see where things lead.
Happy New Year! I’ve been writing this blog for over two and a half years now! I appreciate all of my readers that have stayed with me on this journey of dating and discovery. I want to thank all of my followers who have helped grow the site and I love all of your comments! Keep them coming!
2018 has been an amazing year of dating, relationships, friends, family, self discovery and most of all, love.
I found a girlfriend! (If you’ve been reading this blog I know what you’re thinking, but bear with me. The blog is called Phicklephilly for a reason! See: Cherie)
Also…. I had a goal to reach 50,000 views by Christmas 2018. Thanks to all of you I achieved that number on Christmas day!
Thank you so much!!!
Here’s some of the things you can expect to see in 2019!
Murder Mystery Weekend
I’ve finally decided to try my hand at writing Erotica. It won’t be the usual intense in and out action like most erotic stories. I’ve been working on this idea for a while, and I want it to be a rich and satisfying tale. This series has already begun! Because it’s NSFW (Not Safe for Work) I’ve decided to publish it on my new sister site to Phicklephilly called, La Petite Mort. (There is a link to get to that sight that is live right now!)
The first few chapters will set up the situation and introduce the characters. If you’re looking for the sex, there’s some steam, but you’ll have to be patient. I like a story and character development.
I also have another series starting over there entitled….
Another Life
Have you ever wondered if you exist in another world living Another Life?
I have, and I decided to explore another world that I could have possibly inhabited. In this series I’m a teenager in the late 70’s. My parents are divorced. My stepmom is a bitch. I have roommates. I work at an auto repair shop. I’m close to my uncle and my cousins. I go to college. I navigate this other world and see how this alternate path turns out.
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!
There will also be some exclusive erotic series that I’ll only publish on La Petite Mort so for now they’re a secret. You’ll have to visit the site if you want to read those!
You can find all the goodies there starting in January 2019:
Let me know what you think because this is all new literary ground for me.
Enjoy!
(Read at your own risk, and praying none of my sisters read it!)
As always, your comments and suggestions are most welcome.
Remember, this is my first foray into erotica, so any positive and negative feedback will be very welcome!
California Dreamin’
If you’ve been following this blog for the last year, (and I hope you have!) You read about how I began to tell random stories from my past. (Search: My Young Life) (Wildwood Daze) Many were very personal and I needed to get them out. I was comfortable enough with the regular content and strength of phicklephilly to tell those stories. The feedback and outpouring of assurance was glorious and I thank you all for your words and support!
But I also had the opportunity to write about my young life playing as a musician in several rock and roll bands. Those series ran every Friday in 2018. (Search: Renegade) Wildwood Daze) (Union Jacks)
Now it’s time to tell the crazy, winding tale of my journey from New Jersey to Los Angeles in the early 80’s. It was a mad time to be a young, good-looking musician in a rock band in L.A. So get ready for the real insanity to begin in 2019!!
These stories are some of, if not the most crazy events that I have ever experienced. I’m sure I’m going to be laughing out loud writing them.
And there are plenty!
Cherie
My lovely girlfriend Cherie will continue to appear every Monday at 8am. We’ve been together for a while now and she has well-earned the number 1 spot on my blog. Strap in… it’s going to be a bumpy ride in 2019!
Dating and Relationship Advice
This series really caught on last year. I originally wrote and published it once a week. I just wanted something to fill the Saturday slot. But when a friend of mine ran into some problems in his relationship, I decided to write more. I made a pact with myself that I would write a piece every day and publish every day at noon and twice on Saturday! This way when I didn’t see him he would always have my words to help him through his struggle.
I frankly don’t enjoy writing Dating and Relationship Advice as much as everything else I compose, but people seem to like it. I’m a big purveyor of, “Give the people what they want” So I’ll march on to bring you the best and most up to dating and relationship advice I can come up with! Thanks for making that column a hit!
UPDATE: The more I’ve thought about this the more I want to kill it. I hate writing it and editing it so I’m going to take a break from it at some point. If my traffic drops dramatically I’ll resume it, but if not I’ll stop publishing it. I’d much rather publish content I really love and believe in that’s fun to create, rather than just pounding out content simply for traffic..
UPDATE 2.0: I found a way to keep it going and I hope it works. It will save me a ton of time in the editing process and in the same moment I can support other writers.
I love the idea of Dating and Relationship advice on phicklephilly, but it takes so much time to create and edit, it’s eating up the time when I should be creating fresh content that IS phicklephilly.
But here I am on New Years Eve and I think I came up with a way to make it work.
So for now it’s on for 2019!
Bear with me!
Crazy Dating Stories
These posts have become a bi-monthly staple of the phicklephilly universe. They’re the funniest and most cringe worthy posts on the site’s history. But like I said… my readers love them. Everybody likes a bad dating story, and I have so many to tell. Crazy Dating Stories are like catnip to my loyal following. I love writing them so I’ll do my best to remember them and keep cranking out the trash!
Enjoy!
Sun Stories
Sun Stories have been a monthly series that have appeared on phicklephilly since it’s beginning. There have been so many great tales that have come out of the tanning salon. I have enough to publish an entire book. (I plan to once again try to get Phicklephilly and Sun Stories published as books on Amazon in 2019!)
Highlights to appear this year in Sun Stories will be the introduction of a couple of new characters. (Some enduring, some fleeting)
Chanel – The nerve-wracking and sexy two-part story of the pretty Romanian gypsy that came in from the cold to tan at the salon one night.
Kita – She’s a cute, naive, 20-year-old Asian girl who goes to college in Philly, but lives in Florida with her sister and parents. She loves to tan and is a unique character. I can’t reveal too much, but I’m interested to see how this story plays out.
Jazmin – She’s an exotic, smoking hot Middle Eastern girl who works across the street from the salon at the Guess retail outlet. This is an intense and jarring story about a girl who knew too much… but not enough about one thing.
Tales of Rock
This is my favorite series to write on phicklephilly. As a former musician and rock trivia buff, I love writing these stories. I get a thrill out of telling stories about musicians, sex, drugs and rock n’ roll in general. This enduring series will continue to own the 8am slot every Sunday morning through 2019!
A couple of highlights this year in Tales of Rock:
There will be several disturbing stories about underage girls getting involved with some of the most beloved of rock’s musicians. It’s a lurid series, but someone has to tell these tales. (It might as well be me.)
The Theory of the 13 Year Rock vs. Pop Cycle
This is a 5 part series that runs every Sunday for a little over a month. I did tons of research for this one and I am proud to present this interesting series to my readers! The cycle spans over half a century of Rock and Pop!
Enjoy!
In Search of the Forgotten Heroes of 70’s Rock
I loved writing this post because I grew up listening to these icons in the 1970’s.
Steppenwolf
This one came straight from my heart and soul.
Celebrity Sightings
I’ll continue to crank out stories about local and global celebrities I’ve met in my life. I may even write a few about some actors and actresses I simply adore but haven’t met!
Tinder Moments
I’m sick of these. They’re funny and weird but hard to collect and assemble. They’ll appear monthly through 2019, but after that I’m cancelling this series. (I think online dating sites have been played out anyway.)
Sensuality, Sex & Something Else
I will continue to promote my friend Jad’s blog every Sunday at 3pm. She’s a great lady and her stuff is always a fun read. Whether her series will continue on phicklephilly in 2020 is anybody’s guess at this point. I’ll have to see what the site looks like by then.
Update! Jad has since reached out to me to tell me that she’s met someone special and will not be writing that series anymore. However, she has told me that she will continue to write her blog but it will be private and for her eyes only.
Please join me in wishing her health and happiness in her life!
Thank you Jad for your great stories!
Racquel Writes!
I met the effervescent Racquel on word press. I love her writing and her stories. I decided to feature her every Saturday (Or i it Sunday?) at 3pm on phicklephilly in 2019. She’s a great lady and I hope you enjoy her journey. Please read, comment and follow this wonderful lady’s work! Her series begins next Saturday on January 5th at 3pm EST!
Thank you!
Later in the year I’ve decided to rerun the Rebecca series from 2016. There may be some new developments brewing in that lost relationship this year…
Stay tuned!
So thank you again, one and all for your wonderful support. I’ll continue to deliver quality, unique content this year. I hope you continue the journey with me.
It’s going to be a fun ride!
Life is fleeting and fragile. Enjoy yourself!
I work a lot and when this post publishes I’ll be asleep on New Years Day.
I will arise at some point tomorrow and make my way to the Mummers Parade for a moment.
Thank you one and all for your ongoing support!
Zoolon Forever!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
I text Mary and ask her if she wants to have a drink with me on a rainy Sunday after four when I finish up at the salon. She agrees. She wants to hear the crazy story about Marisa because it all happened at the restaurant where Mary works as a hostess. (See Marisa – 2017 to Present – The Friendly Hostess)
Mary and I like to hang out and drink, but we’re trying to keep our costs down. I suggest Doobies. She’s down for that. We meet at 22nd and Walnut. Umbrellas open we walk south to 22nd and Lombard.
Doobies is a bar that’s been in the neighborhood for a long time. It’s sort of a dive, but the food is good, and the drinks are cheap. There are all sorts of artifacts on the walls like any other dive. But the big theme there is David Bowie. There are pictures of him throughout the bar, and plenty of Bowie on the jukebox. Oh, and they only take cash.
We arrive, and the place appears to be closed. But it’s 4:30 on a Sunday, and the door is unlocked. We go inside to get out of the rain. I see a phone on the bar, and I call out hello a few times. Then some guy comes up out of trap door in the floor behind the bar. I greet him, and he says that she’s not here yet. I don’t know who “she” is, but it said they open at 2pm on Sundays. He says she normally gets there around 5pm.
Mary doesn’t feel like waiting around for a half hour. We thank him, and I tell her I have another plan. We go to South street, and walk over to 21st. Ten Stone is a bar there. A bit nicer than Doobies, but on a rainy day, we’ll settle. It’s a little noisy, because some young people are playing pool and darts in the next room. But it’s not too bad. It’s a nice crowd and the server is friendly.
Mary goes with red wine. Good choice on a chilly, rainy day. I go with some sort of hoppy beer and a shot of whiskey. It’s just been that sort of week. Just the stress of working at the institute, dealing with Marisa the other day, and just everything else that is exhausting me lately.
I tell her all of my stories and after a while I’m feeling much better. I don’t know if it was me telling Mary what my week was like, or the whiskey knocking the edges off. Probably a little of both.
The table where we were siting was small. It was a high top against a wall. We were having a great time laughing and talking, and I was a little worried about Mary’s wine glass.
Have you ever been out at a restaurant, and you just get that vibe, or that premonition that you feel like something’s going to get dropped, knocked over or spilled?
Well I got that feeling early on, and didn’t Mary knock over her wine? I knew that thing was going over. It splashed on her shirt, but didn’t completely empty the glass. She actually got one last mouthful out of that glass, before heading to the restroom to clean up.
She seemed a little buzzed. She got buzzed like this before that Pollyanna holiday party, two weeks ago. I needed to take charge of this situation. So while she was in the bathroom, I paid the bill, and called her an UBER. Normally I would be crying about having to pay the bill, but I dig Mary, and she always pays when we go out. Maybe she’s tired or drinking on an empty stomach. She comes out, and it looks like she got the wine stain out before it could set.
I put her in the UBER and send her home. I tell her to text me when she gets home, so I know she arrived safely. The rain has stopped and I’m close to home so I just walk. I light a cig, and reflect on the evening’s events.
I get home and I have a text from Mary, saying she’s home. Another Sunday down.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
Yesterday we left off here:
She shows me her profile on OKCupid, another dating site. She wants me to read her profile. It’s actually really good, it shows a smart, confident, independent woman. I like that. “That’s why men are intimidated by me.”
“I can imagine. But I dig a confident woman. Especially one as pretty as you.” The picture she has posted of herself is spectacular. She looks like a gorgeous woman in her forties. I notice the age posted on the profile says she’s fifty-six. I point to this and she laughs and says, “That’s my OkCupid age.” I laugh and get it. She looks great and ratcheted back her age five years. “I’m really impressed with that pic of you, Clarice.”
“Cause my tits look so good?”
“Umm… well, yes, but…”
“That’s pretty much all I got to offer. I got no ass! I got skinny bird legs!”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” I say, smiling slyly.
Here’s the great thing about dating older women. They are over all of their body issues. They don’t give a shit about all of the nonsense that clogs the heads of younger women. like her profile says: “I know what I can, and cannot do.”
We’re slowly munching through the tacos. She seems to like them. I order another Tecate. She starts looking at the wine list. (Here we fuckin’ go…) I can’t MAKE her drink tequila if she doesn’t like it. I tell her it’s okay to have a glass of wine. (I know! There goes ten bucks!)
She asks me about my artistic background. I tell her about my art and musical background. (I don’t want to epand on that here. That’s for future posts) She asks if I do anything artistic now. I tell her I do some writing.
“Has anyone seen it?” she says.
“No.”
“You should write a blog.”
“Really?”
“Sure! You know about all of these things around the city. What to drink, where to go, and what to do. It would be really interesting. You could even write a blog about dating. I’m sure it would be fun to read!”
“Do you really think so?”
“You should look into it.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about blogging.”
(Oh, the irony!)
Time goes by and she’s getting a buzz on. She starts getting a little affectionate. I ask her if this okay with her PDA rule in place. Apparently it is, because she kisses me again. She’s canoodling around my ear and neck. “Oooh you smell good!” (She’s into me. It’s so on.) “What is that you’re wearing? It smells sooo good!” I tell her I forget what fragrance I grabbed out of the vanity this morning. Maybe Aqua di Gio, by Giorgio Armani I tell her. (Bold faced lie. It’s Axe body spray, Phoenix)
She kisses me again. “Don’t you ever use tongue?” she hisses. “I do…” I look into her eyes, and then at her mouth and then look downward, then back to her eyes, just so we’re clear. I tell her when I kissed her at the Ritz on Saturday she seemed a little tight-lipped. She says she was right there ready for anything. Got a live one here. Maybe it was the tequila talking. Clarice has no idea who she’s dealing with here. Like a baby seal hopping into the water to cool off, just as the grey dorsal fin cuts through the water heading right for her. She kisses me again. Now her lips feel softer and more passionate than Saturday. I can tell the difference. She’s been thinking about me.
She orders another margarita. (Thank you!) I’m feeling good and into my third Tecate. It’s nearly seven. Need to wrap this up soon. I promised Church I’d meet him at Sofitel. She starts talking about the Comcast Holiday show they do on the digital wall in the lobby of the Comcast tower. She asks me if I’ve ever seen it. I told her I saw it a couple of years ago. (Probably with Michelle and her mom.) She says we should go see it. I tell her I think it’s over by now. She looks it up in her phone. It was over the day after New Years Day.
“Aww too bad, I thought we could go see it after this. See? I’m trying to think of free things we can do together!” (points for that)
I apologize that we missed it, and also tell her I have to go meet with Church after this. He has some important stuff to cover with me.
“Oh…You’re always fitting me in! On our first date at Panorama you had to leave.”
“I had our annual holiday toy drive at Time for the kids at CHOP!”
“On New Years Eve you had to leave me again!”
“I promised my friend Carly weeks ago that I would help her set up a New Years wedding party!”
“Now you’re fitting me in around your friend!”
“He’s having some domestic issues, and my friend needs my support. We set this meeting up a before I made this date with you.”
“Oh…okay. I’m sorry.”
“No worries. I really like you Clarise. I want to see you, but I’ve had a lot of things going on over the holidays. I know now that they’re over, it should free up some time for us to be together.”
“My birthday is coming up, you know. I’ll be sixty-two on January 15th. Martin Luther King’s actual birthday, not the day we celebrate it. Do you have to work that day? It’s a Sunday.”
“Normally I do.”
“Well, here’s what I think you should do; switch with someone. Get on the train. Come out to Upper Darby around 1pm and I’ll pick you up and bring you to my house. You can stay until whenever you have to leave.”
“That would be great. I’ll see what I can do.”
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Clarice is making it clear she wants me to come over and make love to her. Which I am prepared to do. I like Clarice, and I want her.
The check comes. She had two margaritas, one glass of wine, and three tacos. So technically, not including tip, she will have only cost me twenty-three dollars tonight. Please don’t think I’m cheap, dear reader. If you have been reading this blog, you’ll know that I have spent thousands of dollars wining and dining all of these women.
We walk outside and she takes my arm. I walk her to her subway stop. I walk her down to the first landing and kiss her. She’s surprised and pleased. I offer her what I did not before in a kiss. She smiles and kisses me back.
I hear the roar of the approaching train. Time to go.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
After our New Years Eve date, and the date the next day with Mary, I started thinking about my money. I’m approaching this correctly, but operating at this level has a price. Limited time and resources. But when you have a solid pool of candidates, it puts you in a position of power. I’ve begun to realize this as I make this journey. Valerie was my maiden voyage. I was in the mindset, that if I didn’t feel something deep, I couldn’t go forward with her. She was simply an expense, and there was no return on my investment. June, was fun, but I simply wasn’t attracted to her. Fair enough. If one or two fall off, there are always others waiting in line to get onboard. But I really like Mary. She’s cool and fun, and had great history. I’m attracted to her. Same with Clarice. I want her, but I can’t be dropping a load of cash every time I see her.
There are always a few out there circling now. That’s good. That gives me the advantage. The other big advantage here is that I’m younger than both of these women. Normally I’m the old guy dating the younger women. I have real value, but youth is king. An older man will always be beholden to a younger woman due to her obvious youth and beauty. But if the tables were turned, it now puts me in the position to call the shots. What if I simply tell Clarice that I really like her and love spending time with her, but I can’t drop that much coin on her anymore? What’s the worst thing that could happen? The older woman leaves me because I’m not buying her enough drinks and dinners? Fine. She’s a gold digger and always was a gold digger. What do I get from her leaving me? One less expense that’s not yielding me any return on investment.
Mary has been pretty good with paying dutch on some things, so the issue is not with her. It’s with Clarice, and I’m about to solve it.
I told Clarice I was available on Wednesday evening and would like to see her. She agreed. Clarice texted me the night before and asked me what we were doing. The reason I hadn’t locked it down was because at the time I was struggling with how I was going to solve this situation.
I decided to simply call her. Just talk to her the old fashion way. She answers the phone: “To whom do I owe this great honor?” I find that endearing because I say that when I answer the phone when somebody I like is calling me. She wants to know what we’re doing. I flat-out tell her that I really like her, and want to spend time with her, but I can’t spend fifty to a hundred dollars every time I see her. She says she agrees, and says I need to be more creative. I like that answer and it’s not a farewell. She suggests she just come to my apartment. (I find that a bit forward and a veiled suggestion for sex) I tell her Lorelei lives with me and I can’t be dragging strange women through the house with my kid there. I can tell this caught her off guard. She was married thirty years ago, but the marriage yielded no children. So she never thinks about kids. I also mention that if she likes, she could kick in on the bill occasionally. She says that since she just spent a bunch of money on a load of food for a holiday party she recently threw, that’s not happening.
Which tells me some things, about our confident, empowered, CEO. Good looking lady. Former opera singer. (No money in the arts) Runs a company (or maybe just works for a company) that sells marketing materials to companies for promoting their brand. She’s the CEO of a company that does marketing for non profits. (Non profits have no money to spend) It sounds like a company she made up which makes her the CEO. Just like my friend Alice is the CEO of her company. She revealed that she is looking to get a job with the African-American Museum here in the city. (She’s looking for a job!) Hot lady has no money!
So even though she is eight years older than me, this further lowers her value. But… she is charming, beautiful and fit. I am attracted to her, and I will use all of this to my advantage without doing anything dramatic. I will simply be myself and change the game.
I was seeing a client down at 12th and Locust, (It’s a gay bar) and when I walk out at 4:15 I hear someone calling my name. I look around and don’t see anyone I know. Then I see a familiar car parked right there. It’s Church!
“What are you doing down here?” I say.
“I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
“I’m seeing Jay at the club to pitch him my new bar leadership program.”
“Or you’re hanging out in a gay bar!” he quips.
“Yea, and you’re parked in your car out front of that gay bar cruisin’ for dudes.”
“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride, sailor.”
I told Clarice to meet me at El Rey, at 20th & Chestnut at 4:45. It’s best to get there before 5pm because the happy hour fill up because it’s so awesome. Dollar tacos, two dollar Tecate, and five dollar margaritas. How’s that for getting creative?
We’re parked out front of El Rey, and I see Clarice walking towards the bar. “Okay, this is my five o’clock appointment, dude. Thanks for the ride. I’ll meet up with you at Sofitel after seven.”
I wait for her to go in, and Church doesn’t ask who I’m meeting with so I don’t mention it. I head in and she’s at the bar taking off her coat. I stride towards her and nearly call her by her blog name by accident! We hug, and squeeze ourselves into the seats at the bar. It’s a little tight. This used to be the old Midtown Diner III. They kept the affixed seats and the counter when they remodeled the place into El Rey.
I explain the happy hour to her and after a few tries she gets it. She goes with the margarita, no ice. I grab a Tecate. She gets the drink and doesn’t like it. They served it on the rocks which is wrong. She says the drink is super tart. She is making dramatic faces to prove it. I’m finding it annoying. Former opera singer/actress drama. Too much. She grabs the bartender and he fixes the drink. No rocks, and I tell him to add a little more triple sec to lower the tart signature.
Clarice says she’s not a tequila fan, but she’s trying to keep with the “Dating on a budget” program that I am now enforcing. I like that. We order six tacos. So right now the bill would be thirteen bucks. I can live with that. (for now!)
We are chatting and I’m making her laugh as usual. She is beautiful. I ask her how her last date went. She said she cancelled it. Just wasn’t feeling it. I knew it. Once you’ve heard Led Zeppelin, you don’t want to listen to any other crappy bands. She tells me more about her ex husband, and some other guy she dated for five years. I’m feigning interest as usual. It seems to be working.
She shows me her profile on OKCupid, another dating site. She wants me to read her profile. It’s actually really good, it shows a smart, confident, independent woman. I like that. “That’s why men are intimidated by me.”
“I can imagine. But I dig a confident woman. Especially one as pretty as you.” The picture she has posted of herself is spectacular. She looks like a gorgeous woman in her forties. I notice the age posted on the profile says she’s fifty-six. I point to this and she laughs and says, “That’s my OkCupid age.” I laugh and get it. She looks great and ratcheted back her age five years. “I’m really impressed with that pic of you, Clarice.”
“Cause my tits look so good?”
Read the thrilling conclusion to this story tommorow! Where we’ll answer questions like: Will our hero win the heart of the girl before he runs out of money? Do her tits really look that good?
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
Normally, a dating post like this one would appear on a Monday. But since I’m publishing three days a week now, to preserve continuity with the events of New Years weekend, this is technically the fourth installment of the events that occurred over my New Years weekend. Clarice, Carly, and Mary is a 4 part series that should be together.
Here’s where we left off yesterday!
We enjoy our free drinks and I pay the bill, but I told Mary that since she’s had so many medical woes lately, I wanted to do something for her. she’s been paying dutch normally when we go out, and I appreciate that. It’s New Years day of 2017, and I enjoy her company. I want to do something for her.
We step out into the late afternoon December sun onto Broad street. The parade is still going full force. We have to wait between sets to cross the street and head west on South street. I’m pretty sure Mary’s not done yet, and wants another drink. I like that in a woman. Chick’s got stamina. I respect that.
We walk up to 20th and Lombard and we decide to check out the new place called Lou Bird’s. It replaced whatever forgettable restaurant was across from Pub and Kitchen. I’ve never really been a fan of Pub and Kitchen. Not thrilled with the menu and the drinks are expensive. Lou Bird’s is owned by the folks behind Happy Rooster, so that’s a step in the right direction. Inside it is a very cozy bar. Back wall is brick. Only a few people in there, and a family at a back table in the other room. It’s a very comfortable woody bar. The barmaid is attractive and sweet. She is young and seems to lack some knowledge but she’ll do just fine.
Mary orders a stinger. I haven’t heard of that drink in a long time. A real old classic. It’s a pretty simple recipe. Just brandy and white creme de menthe. It can be served on the rocks or up. Mary goes for on the rocks. I have to tell the bartender how to make it. She doesn’t have any brandy so I suggest some the Remy Martin sitting on the shelf behind her. Cognac is brandy. The only way they can call brandy cognac is if it’s distilled in the cognac region of France. (You all knew that, right?)
I go with a simple Manhattan, up. Always a solid choice. It’s a really nice neighborhood bar. I like it here. Small place, all dark wood. Side wall is bare brick. I like that there are windows behind the bar so you can see out. We’re there for a bit, and mary insists on paying. This is always a good thing. I can see she’s got a buzz on. I like her a little tipsy. It’s New Years!
After our drink I tell her I’ll walk her home. We leave, and start walking north up 20th Street. We get to Chestnut street and Mary thinks we should stop in El Rey, for a final. I can’t say no at this point. I’m having such a wonderful fun-filled weekend. Little does Mary know, but I’ll be back at El Rey for happy Hour this week with Clarice.
El Rey is quiet. Mary orders a wine and I get a can of Tecate. I guess this could be considered a nightcap. Once we’re done there, we start to head for her building. At 20th and Market there used to be a vacant lot with an old food cart out front. Now there is a beautiful high-rise with a CVS downstairs. Across the street is a brand new Wawa. How the city has grown and changed over the last ten years since I came here.
Mary is laughing and tells me the food cart isn’t gone, they just moved him to another spot. That’s when I kissed her lips.
She’s drunk. My kiss is welcome.
She locks her arm in mine and I walk her to her building. She’s raving about what a wonderful, perfect day she has had with me. I have to agree with her. I kiss her again. Then she kisses me. She does this a few times. Her lips are soft and a bit more relaxed now. A bit more passion. She likes me. I’m going to see her more in 2017.
We say goodnight, and I wait until she is safely inside before I turn and make the sweet walk back to Rittenhouse on the first day of the new year.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
Normally, a dating post like this one would appear on a Monday. But since I’m publishing three days a week now, to preserve continuity with the events of New Years weekend, this is technically the third installment of the events that occurred over my New Years weekend. Clarice, Carly, and Mary is a trilogy that should be together.
Since our first date Mary and I have met for lunch at Capital Grille and also at Square 1682 again for drinks. We went to Capital Grille because she said she’s known the bartender for fifteen years. She says she gets the hook up. I dig the hook up when I get it so I was down. The lunch was delicious and the company was good. Poor Mary, was having some oral pain for some dental work she needed done, so instead of steak she went with the salmon. But at nearly sixty-nine years of age, she’s hanging tough and looking good doing it. I did the burger to keep the cost down, but in the end we didn’t get any hook up. Good news is, Mary kicked in over forty dollars towards the bill, so Mary is clutch. The moral of this story is, if your name isn’t Phicklephilly or Church, you don’t really get the real hookup.
So this would technically be our fourth date. Mary’s cataract surgery was complete and the vision in her right eye is now clear again. After my date New Years Eve brunch with Clarice, (See: Clarice – 2016 to Present – The CEO – New Years Eve Brunch) and the wedding set up with Carly, (See: Carly – 2014 to Present – New Years Eve) I was ready to spend New Years Day with Mary.
These have been my kind of holidays and I think I finally got it right. In December I saw my family in the middle of the month at our annual holiday party.
Fantastic.
Like I’ve said before I’ve never been a fan of New Years because it’s drunken amateur night. Just can’t do it. So this year, I’ve managed to build these little meetings around the holiday, without actually having to participate in said holiday.
I decided to take Mary to brunch at the City Diner at Broad and South. It was formerly Juniper Commons. A Kevin Spraga restaurant. It was an abject failure. They had eighty different gins. You could pick your club soda from a load of different flavors. It had a diner decor and played 80’s music throughout. I had brunch there when it first opened. I had this magnificent pancake concoction. Best ever. The two times I went back my buddy Church said the burgers were sub par, and another time I had brunch with Trish there, the food outright sucked. Who wants gin, let alone eighty different kinds?
The place went under in less than six months. Bitch, please.
A Greek family came in and turned the place into a twenty-four hour diner. Crushing it. perfect spot and perfect idea. Like my partner Achilles over at the salon, the Greeks just know how to get it done. Wait until some big shot goes in and does the whole build out on the restaurant and wait for it to fail. Then go in and open your restaurant and all of the stuff is already there to make it work.
Genius.
I meet her there and we’re all set. I called a few days before and made a reservation for a window booth on the Broad street side. The mummers parade goes right down Broad street all day on New years. Perfect vantage point to dine while watching the parade go by. Mary is impressed. It’s what I’m good at. Being at the parade can sometimes be a shitshow, but being behind glass and away from the crowd and noise, it’s a delight.
We have a really nice Irish girl who will be our server. It’s about 1:15pm at this point. I order a Yards Pale, and Mary goes with the prosecco. How about that? Two different dates in two days, and they order the same thing. Just goes to show, ladies dig bubbly when it comes to day drinking. Place is swinging. Very busy. Juniper Commons was never like this.
Mary and I are chatting and catching up on what’s been happening in our lives over the holidays. The server comes by and we’re not ready. That always happens. I get chatting with someone and forget to look at the menu. She returns in a bit and we’re ready. Mary goes with the Eggs Benedict with Canadian bacon, and I have the french toast deluxe. Deluxe means they give me a sizable slice of ham, two pieces of bacon and a single sausage. Just a glorious brunch item. Order is in, and now it’s maybe 1:40pm.
We chat away, and order another round. The diner fills and several large parties come in. We’re laughing and talking as the parade rolls by. The people watching alone is almost better than the parade, and we’ve got a court side seat.
Time goes by.
More time goes by.
And even more time goes by.
We’re not starving but it’s been an hour and no food.
An hour!
At a fucking diner!
At Midtown diner they crack that food off to you so fast you barely tell them what you want and it’s in front of you. And Little Pete’s? Lightning. We can’t figure out what’s wrong. The server comes over and apologizes, several times. We’re not angry because we’re enjoying each others company the time sort of just rolls by. But we should be a little cross about this situation. The server tells us it’s the kitchen’s fault. They have had a few large tables come in and they are in the weeds. But that’s not our problem. I understand the challenges of the service industry and so does Mary…first hand.
Once it’s an hour and a half, and we’re about to order our third round, the server returns once again. She apologizes and is really sweet. We tell her it’s not her fault. I suggest that we pay for our drinks, and when our food eventually comes out after two hours, we eat it and tip her up to what the whole meal would cost, but the manager or owner comps our lunch. In theory this seems fair.
But the server tells us that they are Greek. (we know this) Any shortcoming that occur in the diner are the fault of the server. But we tell her she is completely innocent in all of this. She insists they will take it out of her pay and she’ll get in trouble.
Well that sucks. I can’t let that happen. We tell her we’re rescinding the offer and to forget we ever said anything. We express this with great earnest because she’s under enough stress, running around all day serving hungry cranky customers. I drop the idea.
Mary agrees. We’re cool. The server tells us just two more orders ahead of us and they’ll bring us our food. We’re both a little buzzed at this point and are still having a lovely time.
A few minutes later our orders from nearly two hours ago finally arrive. Fresh and hot just as if they were delivered minutes after we ordered. Presentation looks solid, and we’re both satisfied. We tear into our platters like hungry children. (#firstworldproblems) it’s all delish!
The server comes back and tells us if we want another round it’s on them. I think we’re square. It really wasn’t bad sitting there with Mary chatting away on a beautiful day. We’re finishing up and she gets a glass of wine and I go with a cocktail. The Scofflaw. It contains Crown Royal, dry vermouth, grenadine, orange bitters, and an Amarena cherry. Not a bad, spirit forward drink for a diner at 4:30 in the afternoon.
We’ve been here all afternoon!
We enjoy our free drinks and I pay the bill, but I told Mary that since she’s had so many medical woes lately, I wanted to do something for her. She’s been paying dutch normally when we go out, and I appreciate that. It’s New Years day of 2017, and I enjoy her company. I want to do something for her.
Tune in tomorrow to find out where these crazy kids end up next!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 9am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
On our first date, Clarice had said she wanted to go to see Rogue One with me. I agreed. We were to meet that Saturday and check it out.
I was on my way to somewhere, and I stopped at the salon. I was chatting with Trish. People were asking about the holiday hours that were posted at the counter. “You’re covering my shift this Saturday, right?” She said.
I was caught completely off guard.
“Yea, remember you said you’d work for me this saturday, because I’m going home Friday to see my aunt and uncle and my parents for the holiday.”
I’m looking at my phone in my calendar. I don’t see it. I put everything in my calendar for just this reason.
“I’m supposed to see Rogue One…” Obviously not the answer Trish was looking for.
“I don’t see it in my calendar. Was I drunk when we made this plan?”
“I don’t know when you’re drunk!”
“Are you saying I’m drunk all the time?”
“No!” Trish looks like she’s about to cry. “I guess I can see my aunt and uncle next year…”
“Settle down. hang on. I’m going to make a phone call.”
I step out of the salon and go into the empty space next door. (It hasn’t been rented for three years) I call Clarice. Great thing is, being an older person she actually answers her phone. I explain my dilemma, and how I’ve got a friend and co-worker ready to squirt some tears in the salon. Clarice is completely understanding. I actually was happy to pick up the hours. I can go see Rogue One anytime. It would probably have been packed anyway.
I want to see her again, so I reach out to her a week later. I lock her down for brunch on New Years Eve. I’ve never been a fan of New Years anything, so it’s nice if I can do something during the day and then go home by nightfall. That’s when all of the amateur animals come out.
Saturday rolls around and I head to Jones. It’s a Stephen Starr restaurant at 8th and Chestnut. I forgot how noisy of a place it was. Hard surfaces and a high ceiling. They serve a lot of comfort food, and the place is decked out in 1970’s decor. It’s one in the afternoon and the place is swinging. I check my coat and wait for her. She appears on time. You know I like that.
She looks really good. Hair looks amazing. Those flowing raven tresses. Leather jacket, jeans and boots. Hot.
“Wow this place is busy. Are we even going to be able to get a table?” she says.
“We do when I have a reservation.”
The hostess takes us to our table. I’m happy to be here. I haven’t set foot in this place in over three years. We’re chatting and looking at the menus. I really dig their mac and cheese. So I suggest we share a bowl of that with a side of siracha. She agrees.
The server comes back. Clarice goes with a glass of prosecco, and I do a Yards Pale Ale. I put in for the mac n’ cheese, and let her order first. She’s not ready, but asks me to go first. I tell her I’ll speak slowly to give her more time. I go with the puffy french toast.
“That’s what I was going to order! I’ll have that too.” she says
“Should I order something else?”
“You should, so we can share.” Her again with the controlling. (This is eventually probably going to be a problem)
Am I imagining this? Am I being over sensitive? I’ll allow it. I decide to go with the Quiche. Because I love quiche and I’m a real man. I looked at it before and it was my second choice after the french toast. At least it’ll be healthier.
“That was my second choice!” she quips. (Hmm…)
It’s noisy but I’m happy to see her and I’m having a lovely day. The weather is great and we’re right on the edge a new year. The mac n’ cheese arrives. It’s bubbling fresh in the bowl. Looks delish!
We rip into that, and it’s just as good as I remember. Brunch arrives a little premature, but it’s 1:30 and I haven’t eaten yet today so I’m in the mood for food. Everything looks and tastes great and we’re sharing.
After a while the place empties out somewhat and it’s a bit more quiet. we’re discussing the holidays and family, etc. For some reason I can really tickle this lady. I just start talking about stuff and she laughs her head off.
I ask her how her other dates went. She said she checked in with the Delaware guy on Wednesday about that evening, and he said he was boarding a plane. He didn’t reach out to cancel. He was just going to bail. She obviously took offense and didn’t respond. He texted her again on Saturday and she just ignored it. The friday guy she cancelled. It was supposed to be his third date with her, but when he was saying things like he wanted to come to her house and cuddle she was put off. Maybe the fool thought the third date rule somehow applied to this thoroughbred.
I kind of like that after she went out with me, everybody else either screwed up or dropped off. My Led Zeppelin prophecy came true!
I should probably get to the 300 pound gorilla in the room. The bill comes. Granted, she had two proseccos and I had three beers. The drinks are what kill you. The bill was like seventy-three dollars. My eyes are watering. I look at it and I’m like, wow. Oh well, its New Years. I don’t make a big fuss over it publicly because that makes me look like a cheap skate and we all know that I am more than generous. I let the moment steam a bit, just in case there is help on the way…
Come on… just reach into your bag and offer the tip. Just the tip, baby…. You can do it. It’s going to be 2017. Equal rights for women. Please…….?
Nope. Not a fucking dime from the CEO boss lady.
Killing me.
We leave and enjoy a leisurely stroll down Chestnut Street. We’re headed west back towards center city. I have to go meet my friend Carly around 4:30, to help her set up for New Years Eve at the restaurant where she works. Clarice says she can hop on the next train back to Upper Darby anytime.
We reach Broad Street. I mention to her that they’ve remodeled the whole “rotunda” (bar area) of the Ritz Carlton across the street. “Wanna pop in and check it out?” Clarice is down for that. Maybe they’re handing out free drinks. I know she’d like that!
We head inside and the place looks gorgeous. It’s all decorated for the holidays and they have reconfigured the space. All of the furniture is new, and there is more private spaces around the room. The bar has been completely redone. they moved it outward from the wall and now you can sit all the way around it. Plus there are little booth seats against the back wall now. I need to come back here for happy hour again soon. Maybe with someone else though.
Just sayin’.
As we enter the main room there is a pretty black girl holding a tray of champagne. I can’t believe it. Free drinks. “Happy New Year.” She smiles. Clarice and I each grab a glass and look for a seat. We see several areas that have “Reserved” signs on them. We walk by several empty areas that are like that. “Oh that one is reserved too.” I say. as we’re walking by a seated couple. “They’re all reserved, she says with obvious disappointment in her voice. Clarice speaks: “Fuck this. Let’s goes sit over there.”
“We can’t. This is the Ritz Carlton, we can’t just do that.” I reply.
Wow. What a change in attitude since my days with Michelle. We take off our coats and get comfortable on the pillow covered sofas in our little enclosure.
“Fuck it. I’m doing it. If whoever this is reserved for shows up, we’ll apologize for not seeing the sign and leave.”
“But I can clearly see the sign right there on the table, Clarice.”
With a backward swipe of her hand she knocks the sign off the table. “C’mere.” She says as she grabs me and kisses me passionately. Now we got a show. She’s taking the sting right of that bill from Jones.
“I thought you said no PDA?”
“This is private enough.” She pulls me in for more kisses. She’s a hot lady. Maybe this is what Valerie and June were missing. That youthful fire that this sixty-one year old still possesses. She was in show biz for years so I know how these carny folk are all horny, but it’s a good thing.
“You know what I’d like to do that I’ve never done?” She purrs.
“What?”
“I wanna go to a strip club.”
“Noted. I’ll take you to Delilah’s one day.”
I need to write that down in the notepad of my phone as ‘Things to do with Clarice’. We’re just hanging on the sofa and nobody is saying anything. I’ve really got her laughing. We’re having a good time sipping our free champagne. I do realize that I have to go meet with Carly, so we finish our bubbly and head out. Of course I help her with her coat.
We walk a few blocks and I’ve got to keep heading west, and she’s got to go north to jump on the subway. I thank her for the day and she smooches me again. I do like Clarice. I’m attracted to her, and want to see her again.
Maybe one day when we’re someday watching Season Two of Phicklephilly on Netflix, I’ll look back on these moments and laugh. But right now this research is costing me a small fortune. I think I’ll find true love when I meet a woman that doesn’t want anything from me.
Maybe she’ll just want me for me.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.
Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.
I was having lunch with my buddy, Rocco at one of our favorite places. It’s actually the place where I first met Maria. (Maria – 2015 to Present – Amor en Vano) The hostess is an older woman who’s always on point and nice to talk to. We’ve been going there for lunch since it opened. Mary works there Wednesday through Friday.
I’m sitting there looking over at Mary, and I say to Rocco, “I’m going to ask Mary out for a drink.” Rocco agrees that I should. Mary is 5’6″, slender and fit. She has light blond hair and blue eyes. She is as she says, “A whisper away from 69.” I know that sounds a little dirty, but that means she’ll be turning 69 years old in a few months.
Now I know what I said before about dating older women or women my age, but Mary is cool and looks great. I think maybe I just dated a few duds off Tinder, but I know Mary from the real world.
So I was going to ask her right then, but it looked like she was sitting down to eat something. I didn’t want to bother her while she was trying to eat so I just ended up leaving and not saying anything to her. I figured the next time I saw her I’d ask her out. But I was slightly disappointed in myself for not striking when the idea presented itself to me.
The next day was Saturday and I was out in the city running errands. I was walking up 19th street. There was a cluster of people and dogs up ahead, and I decided to avoid that whole mess by simply walking in the street. I’m going along and this woman comes up to me in sunglasses and says: “Do you always walk in the street?” I was startled at first but then realized it was Mary. “I was just saying to Rocco, that I was going to ask you to have a drink with me, but you were eating when we were leaving the restaurant yesterday!”
We chatted a bit and I told her that this was the first time we have ever seen each other outside of the restaurant. I then asked her if she’d like to meet me for a drink later. She said she was meeting some of her friends later for dinner, but could hang with me in a couple of hours. She had some errands to run and so did I. She gave me her number and said she’d text me in a bit.
I went to Target and picked up some things, and grabbed my dry cleaning on the way home. Some time later I got a text from Mary. We met up around 19th and Chestnut. She suggested Smith’s. We walked over and it looked crowded. I suggested Cavanaugh’s. We peeked in there and it looked packed and noisy. We continued down Sansom street. We went into square 1682 at 17th and Sansom. As always, it was perfect.
She ordered a scotch and soda and I went with the cider. This is the first time I’ve ever chatted with Mary outside of the restaurant. It was refreshing talking to someone who has lived in Philly her whole life. She has a rich history of stories from working in the hospitality industry most of her life. She’s basically retired but likes the structure that the hosting job gives her. She only works about four hours a day, three days a week. Mary has never been married and never really wanted to get married. She says she never really met anyone she wanted to be tied to for the rest of her life.
She seems like a pretty level-headed woman who enjoys her independence. She’s fourteen years older than I am, but we still have a lot in common having grown up in the sixties and seventies.
She’s been suffering from numerous maladies as of late. She’s been seeing a physical therapist about some pain and stiffness she’s been experiencing in her right shoulder. She’s also getting cataract surgery in the next few weeks. I know none of this seems all that glamorous, but these are real challenges that an older person is going to have to face. She’s in good shape and these are normal occurrences. I realize I’m not getting any younger, and I’m not going to be hotter or stronger, or any better a year from now. It’s all downhill from here. I just need to keep growing and evolving into a better person. If I can just maintain my health as long as possible I’ll be satisfied with that. I like that she wants to work too. I hope I can work as long as possible. I just like to have things to do to fill my day and interact with people.
Mary is a pretty basic Philly girl who gets it, and wants to live a simple uncluttered life into old age. She has a nice condo here in town and is very happy with the space and the view from her balcony.
I think she’s pretty. I like spending time with her and I want to get to know her. it’s nice hanging out with some one above my age. There is a simple wisdom that comes with age.
We have a couple of rounds and then she has to go to meet with her friends. I walk her outside and we share a brief kiss. I like Mary and want to see her again. Maybe I’m finally maturing and enjoying the company of women my own age.
Or even older!
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