Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

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Samarah – St. Patrick’s Day

Before we take our shots she looks me in the eye and says… “Whiskey makes me kind of crazy, just so you know.”

It was a couple years ago, and I had been an active online dater for a while. Long enough to know that people definitely exaggerate and even lie in their dating profiles, and that sometimes the person turns out to look nothing like their photos.

I matched with Samarah on Tinder, and she was definitely one of those questionable “swipes” where her photos were kind of blurry, but her apparent job and hobbies were interesting enough, so swipe right I did, and we ended up making a date to grab a drink on St. Patrick’s Day. Yea… St. Patrick’s Day. Not a fan. I don’t think drunk people sitting on the curb, throwing up into green plastic hats is what St. Patrick had in mind.

As an aside: When dating, for the first date I always only make plans to grab a drink or a coffee (generally a drink, because most people do better with a little bit of social lubricant when meeting someone new) so that I can get a quick assessment of the person and then split if there’s no chemistry or if they’re a weird, or whatever.

I get to the bar where we are to have our date, and the girl is nearly an hour late. (I HATE LATENESS) She texts me along the way to tell me he had trouble getting a cab, so being the nice person that I am, I wait for her to arrive instead of just blowing her off and leaving, as I was tempted to do because I thought about the nightmare I went through with Marisa (See: Marisa – 2017 – The Friendly Hostess)

When she finally arrives, she’s super flustered and weird, and clearly the socially awkward type. She looked sort-of like her photos, but had definitely put on a few. I’m not horribly superficial, no big deal. (Who am I kidding? Yes I am.) Anyway, back to the socially awkward. I know we all have our moments, but this girl didn’t even seem to be able to order a drink from the server without falling all over herself. I was like, “Whoa babe, relax. It’s just a beer.” I don’t believe she was drunk. However, that was my first suspicion.

So we finally get our drinks (I’ve already had two since I was sitting and waiting for her for so long) and exchanging the usual first date info, and I am definitely not into her. She had clearly lied about her job on her profile and honestly seemed like kind of a weirdo. This girl was a different breed of weirdo. Either that or she had some kind of mental disability that I was not able to pinpoint in the small amount of time we had spent together.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, she says “It’s St. Patrick’s Day. I feel like we should get some whiskey! Do you want some whiskey?”

Here we go.

I love whiskey and drink it occasionally, so I agreed. Samarah (awkwardly) orders two shots of Jameson and as soon as the server brings them over she tells her that we will have two more. I’m thinking “Okay honey. Chill out.” Because she had previously mentioned that she’s a lightweight in the drinking department.

Before we take our shots she looks me in the eye and says, “Whiskey makes me kind of crazy, just so you know.”

“Thanks for the intel,” sort of assuming that she meant massive quantities of whiskey made her crazy. Well, I was about to find out that she was being completely serious, and I was in for quite the show.

We clink our shot glasses together and before I can get the shot glass to my lips she asks if I am going to drink the whole thing. Um, yeah baby, it’s just a shot, but I confusedly mumble something like, “I don’t know, maybe?” I’m not a big shot drinker. Sometimes I drink the whole thing in one swallow, sometimes I don’t. Why does she care?

So I take the shot, and she takes about half of hers, and when she sees that I drained mine, she yells at me, “YOU LIAR! YOU SAID YOU WERE NOT GOING TO DRINK THE WHOLE THING! YOU LIED TO ME!” I just sort of stared at her, and didn’t have a chance to respond, because the server was back with our second round of shots.

At this point I am starting to think this is maybe a bad idea, but before I can say or do anything, Samarah downs the second shot and looks at me triumphantly as if she has accomplished something commendable.

Me: “Yay, you took a shot, what do you want, a fucking award? Is this date over yet?”

Obviously, I didn’t really say that, but I should have, because then she went berserk for absolutely no reason at all. As if I had at least said that, she may have had some mild justification for what was about to happen.

Samarah got super angry and started yelling and flailing her arms around telling me that she would kill anyone that came near me. She would fucking shoot anyone that ever tried to come near me. At this point, I was like,HOLY SHIT. This chick is psycho! And I start to wonder if she is possibly carrying a gun in her purse.

I make a move to get up so that I can pay the tab and be done with it. Samarah obviously sees me get up, and she just assumes I’m going to the bar to get more drinks, and says she needs to go to the restroom. I walk up to the bar and pay my tab, and look to the back of the bar (it wasn’t a large bar, just a standard, open, rectangular room with bathrooms in the back, clearly labeled) and I see her wandering around in small, drunken circles looking for the bathroom!

I decide to take pity on this poor thing, and walk to the back of the bar and show her where the restroom is (she had used it previously without incident so I couldn’t figure out why finding it again was such an issue. Maybe she’s on drugs?)

As soon as she gets inside the ladies’s room, I can hear her becoming violently ill. Puking her guts out. The people sitting at the bar can hear it and are looking at me like “What the hell is going on?” I literally told them, “I don’t know her. I think she might be crazy! Like, really crazy!” They continued to look concerned, but went back to their own conversations.

At this point, I should have just left, but being the gentleman that I am, I waited until she came out of the bathroom so that I could say goodbye. She comes out like nothing happened. She acts like a totally different person. All the rage and anger were gone and just this nice, normal girl comes out speaking in regular tones, and sounding not at all like the person that went into that bathroom a few minutes before.

I am saying my goodbyes to her, just saying whatever I have to say to get out of this situation immediately, and she pops a piece of gum in her mouth, and then grabs me and tries to kiss me! At this point I practically did a back bend to get my face as far away from her face as possible with her holding on to me.

At this point I actually ran. I full on ran out the door and started sprinting up the street. The bartender was actually around the corner having a cigarette and asked me as I whizzed past if everything was alright and I yelled back over my shoulder, “I’m fine! Just running away from that crazy girl!”

Bartender: “Who Samarah? Everybody knows that!”

I got home and figured that was the end of it, and I wouldn’t hear from her again.

Inexplicably, that was not the end. Samarah ended up texting and calling me incessantly for weeks asking what she did wrong, and begging to see me again. Those calls and messages went unanswered until I finally blocked her in all ways possible, and that was that. I hope I never see her again. I can’t imagine how she didn’t have any inkling of what went wrong on that date.

 

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Nigel – The Motherload

“With friends like Church, who needs to go to the liquor store?”

My man Nigel is making some major changes in his life. He’s a brand ambassador and has collected quite a collection of different spirits over the years. He has decided to get rid of all of the booze in his house. So he packed up a few bags and gave it all to me. Here’s what he’s given me so far.

Starr Ultra Superior Spiced Rum

2 bottles of Leblon Maison Leblon – Reserva especial Brazilian Rum 

The Famous Grouse blended scotch Scotland

Social Still Barrel Gin 90 proof

Liter of Plymouth English Gin

Wild Turkey American Honey Sting Bourbon

Liter of Brugal Especial Extra Dry Rum

Social Still Gin

The Famous Grouse Smoky Black Blended Scotch Whiskey

The Famous Grouse Scotch

Old Potrero 18th Century Style Whiskey

Social Still Spiced Rum

Social Still Hop Gin

Buffalo Trace Kentucky Straight Bourbon

Karlsson’s Gold Vodka

Social Still Rye Whiskey

Boulard Calvados Pays d’ Auge VSOP Cognac

Macallan Edrington Ambassador Scotch

The Naked Grouse Blended Scotch Whiskey

Domaine De Canton French Ginger Liqueur

Chambord Resberry Liqueur

Johnny Walker Black

Westland American Single Malt Whiskey

Nikka Coffey Grain Whiskey

The Glenturret Highland Single Malt Scotch Whiskey – (Aged 27 Years!)

2 The Glencairn glasses!

and finally….

The Macallan 17-year-old scotch whiskey!!!

Obviously I was blown away. It’s the most booze I’ve ever owned at one time in my life. That’s over two dozen bottles!!!I cleared off this cabinet in my bedroom to house it all. It takes up two shelves. I’m so grateful he thought of me when it came to disposing of his booze. I’m sure I’ll find a good use for it. I have added to my own tiny collection. Two bottles of Whistle Pig 10-year-old Rye Whiskey, and a fifth of Ketel One Vodka from the Nolet Family distillery signed by 9th generation son, Carl Nolet!!!

I told my daughter, Lorelei we would crack the Macallan 17 on her wedding day. (If that ever happens.No pressure!)

Anyway, with friends like Nigel, who needs to go to the liquor store!

Love that guy!

 

 

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Nigel – Birthday Man

Walk beside me and we’ll get you through the fire…

It was Nigel’s forty-eighth. He stopped up at the salon with a 200 ml of Jim Beam. I guess he wanted to get a little tuned up before we went to Keila’s going away party. Alice was nice enough to throw it for her considering Keila was leaving her high and dry. I don’t know when the party started, but I told Alice we’d be getting there after 8pm.

Nigel flopped on the couch in the waiting area of the salon. He cracked the half pint and poured half of it in an empty water bottle for me. He grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and mixed his own whiskey and coke. I got him a scarf for his birthday, and he loves it. It looks just like one of mine, and I know he likes mine so now he has one.

I finished up work around 8pm. I texted Brooke to let her know we were heading over to Alice and Keila’s office for the party. Nigel and I go to their building and wait for the elevator. We finally get one and it’s full of people. These elevators always take forever. We finally reach their floor and step into the hallway. We can see the shared space through the glass doors. I see Alice putting her coat on and others gathering to leave.

We’ve missed it. It’s over. I text Brooke and tell her they’ve ended the party early. She says she has to attend a birthday party at Vesper later so if I want to meet her there we can. I agree.  (It’s a cool speakeasy bar on Syndham street, around the corner from Misconduct on 15th and Locust)

Alice and Keila are heading down Locust street toward Locust Rendezvous. (Small neighborhood bar, with $5 burgers everyday) It’s packed, and they keep on going towards Misconduct. Keila suggests McGillin’s on the other side of Broad street. (Oldest operating bar in Philadelphia) Alice vetoes the idea and wants to go to Misconduct.

We all pile in there. It’s noisy and packed as well. I tell Alice that Nigel that I thought the party was going to go until 9pm. Now we’re doing this mess, and we don’t want to do this train wreck. Alice is half in the bag. I tell her that Nigel and I are meeting Brooke over at Vesper around the corner.

“Are you mad at me?” she pleads.

“No. it’s just too crowded here and we need to go chill somewhere.”

I can tell she’s upset, but all they would have needed to do is follow us. But they didn’t, and I’m glad they didn’t. I don’t want to hang out with a bunch of IT nerds. It’s Nigel’s birthday, and I need to make sure he’s happy. We leave Misconduct. (It’s like a goddamn Chinese fire drill!)

Life is good over at Vesper. There are people at the bar, but against the wall are high top tables that are all empty. We park it there and order some drinks. Brooke shows up and I’m happy to see her. In her boots she is towering over me at 6’4″. We’re chatting about everything. her life, job, the salon, my new business development job. She says she’s here for some girl’s birthday party. The girl slept with some guy she was seeing some time ago, but they have reconciled. Still sounds shitty to me. I ask her how her trip to NYC went. I’m assuming it was a modeling gig.

Her heart was shattered a few years ago, when some guy she was in love with, neglected to tell her a small detail in that he had a wife. Brooke said she now has no expectations. Sounds like the walking wounded. You can’t let the shitty things that people do to you change your way of thinking or loving. They’re just shitty people. Learn from them and move on. Just try to make better decisions next time.

Brooke tells me that she’s on a dating site where people have to verify their incomes. She says she went to NYC to meet a guy that is a millionaire. She showed me some pics and he was good-looking and fit. She said she’ll only date guys that have been verified and have solid income. Now technically this seems like a safe plan on paper. But here’s what I gathered from our conversation.

Hot millionaire, (Or not. I don’t know how they verify income. Do you have to submit your tax returns to this site?) He’s on there and probably has no game. Because if you’ve got a million dollars you should be able to pull some serious tail on a regular basis. He connects with statuesque Brooke. She gets on the cheap bus in Chinatown and takes it to NYC for twelve bucks. If he’s so rich and he likes you, shouldn’t he just send a car for you or at least pay for your round trip ticket on Amtrak to have you up and back in a classy way? That’s what you would think, right?

Brooke schleps up there on a shitty two-hour bus ride. Goes to the guys place and he’s got her. “Did you sleep with him?” I ask.

“Of course.”

That is sooo Brooke. She’s always come off as a very sexual being. But she goes about it the wrong way every time. She has a slammin’ athletic body and probably fucks like a tiger, but no one keeps her around. I think it’s because she gives up the gold too soon, and really just isn’t pretty enough in the face for anybody to stay with her. I know this sounds harsh, but she needs to protect her vessel and make better decisions.

So basically, this hot “millionaire” sat back sipping a scotch in his Manhattan apartment while Brooke hopped on a bus in Chinatown and rode all the way up there to see him. He bangs a hot hard body for the night. It doesn’t cost him a red cent. Better than a free hooker, because she really likes him and hopes he’ll do the same. But I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit about her and just got some hot booty call for the night. She never mentioned him courting her, or taking her out anywhere in Manhattan. He just fucked my friend and put her off the property the next morning like a bag of trash. She gets to take the long ride alone back to Philly on a bus that smells like urine.

Bravo.

Well done.

I told this story to my dear friend Dina, (See: Dina – 4/2011 to Present – Lil’ Jap) at breakfast the other day and I’ll tell you what she said.

“That is not how you find a husband.”

I love Dina. She has always been wise beyond her years. (Like and old Jewish lady that I love)

So I tell Brooke we’ll catch up more in 2017. She has to go be with the shitty birthday girl. I get the bill and it’s my two beers and Nigel’s one cocktail. It’s his birthday, So I get it.

It’s getting noisy as more people enter the bar. I look at my phone. Alice texted me asking where we were. I tell her the Vesper Club and there is plenty of room.

Drunken crickets.

Nigel finds out his buddy Eddie is working the bar downstairs and wants to go down there. It’s the coolest part of this place. We walk up to the hostess stand. To her right is a tall bookcase. Nigel picks up the phone on the wall and speaks to the bartender downstairs. The bookcase clicks, and swings open like a door!

It’s a secret passage way to the cellar!

I love this!

We go downstairs and there is this dark bar set up down there. Dark lounge. People are in clusters on plush sofas drinking cocktails. It’s quiet and could become one of my hang outs, if I can get down here again. The bartender Eddie makes us a few drinks and they are outstanding.

There is a couple to my left on a Tinder date! I tell them some other good spots to hit around the city. She’s hotter than he is but it could work if he’s nice and has game. To my right is what appears to be three ladies that must work together. They’re all getting drunk and laughing.

I’m happy to be down here.

After two drinks and the ladies getting noisier, I know Nigel will want to go. Nigel doesn’t  like noise or nonsense. He insists on paying the check. I press but he wants to get it. I’m sure his buddy gave him a good hook up on the drinks.

I’m happy.

We make one final stop at Sofitel. He’s got connections there too. I order a Stella Artois and he gets a cup of coffee. They bring us a basket of fries and some dipping sauce.

It’s outstanding.

So we’re wrapping it up, and the night is winding down. We go to his car and he gives me a ride home. Nigel got a scarf. We drank a little bourbon. We almost went to a party. I got to buy him a few rounds of drinks. I got good intel on Brooke. We got the hook up in a cool underground bar. And some free food at another.

So overall I think Nigel had a good time, and so did I.

 

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

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