Couple With 45-Year Age Gap Defend Their Relationship Despite Backlash From Family

A husband and wife with a 45-year age gap have defended their relationship, asking the world why they should have to hide their love.

Stefani Walper, 25, and her 70-year-old husband Don have been together for five years, and even have a two-year-old son called Lachlan together.

The couple met at the bar Stefani works at, when Don came in to drink with friends.

Speaking to The Mirror, Stefani – from Armstrong in British Columbia, Canada – recalled: “I loved him like the second I saw his face. It was super weird because everyone was like, ‘Oh my God, this guy’s like, at least 30 years older’.

“I just thought he was so handsome and he was charming and super flirty. And, I don’t know, it just made me happy every time he came in.”

 

Stef, 25, and Don, 70. Credit: Jiri Bakala/Barcroft Media via Getty Images
Stef, 25, and Don, 70. Credit: Jiri Bakala/Barcroft Media via Getty Images

Don eventually asked her out for drinks, and the rest is history – although that’s not to say it’s been plain-sailing ever since.

Stefani, who was just 20 when she first met Don, who is the same age as her late father, said most of her family have been unhappy about the unusual match.

She explained: “My mom was not a fan at all, my dad was not a fan, my brother was absolutely not a fan as well. So nobody was really on Don’s team.

“I had just turned 20, like just. So I think for my side of the family, they were a little bit like, ‘Whoa, what are you doing?’ They thought I was making a mistake, I got myself into a situation.”

By the time the two married a year and a half ago, Stefani’s family had thankfully warmed to Don, but the couple admitted they still get odd looks when in public.

Don said: “People on the street, they do that second take or third take or whatever it is or make a comment if I have Lachlan out for a walk or something and someone says, ‘oh, grandpa’s got the little boy today’, I don’t even correct them.”

 

Stef, 25, and Don, 70. Credit: Jiri Bakala/Barcroft Media via Getty Images
Stef, 25, and Don, 70. Credit: Jiri Bakala/Barcroft Media via Getty Images

But they refuse to let strangers’ judgement hold them back, with Stefani adding: “We choose, I guess, not to hide our relationship because why would you hide yours? Would anybody hide their relationship?”

She continued: “People always told me: ‘I’ll pray for you, like you’re in a really scary situation, he’s gaslighting you, he’s grooming you, you need to talk to somebody and get help and get out; like you’re in a really toxic relationship’.

“And I was like, all right, so here’s a guy who puts gas in my car when he’s got it, puts gas in our car, he brings me home flowers, he puts cute little sticky notes on my mirror, he rubs my feet or my back every night after work.”

It’s a sentiment Don shares, saying he doesn’t think they should worry about anything other than each other and their son.

He added: “I don’t think we have to prove it, we just show them by living your life the best you can and raise our son the best we can.”

 

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Cherie – Chapter 9 – Misconduct on your Birthday

“You’re hot like coffee, but sweet like chocolate”

The Wednesday before her 27th birthday arrives. The day before I had called my friend Keila, who is great at all things party and presents. I tell her my dilemma in regard to what I could get Cherie for her birthday. She offers some good suggestions.

I head to Starbucks. I get in line and ask the guy behind me what’s a good dollar amount for a gift card. He says go with $20 because Starbucks is expensive coffee. I get the card and then head to my next destination.  I walk into the shops at Liberty Place. I know Cherie likes milk chocolate so I scope out a little something of that variety. The girl working is very nice and guides me to a little box of six different kinds of truffles. Looks perfect and I know Cherie will love it. Cherie isn’t expecting anything so it’ll make it even better when I surprise her. I ask the girl if she can wrap it up and she says she can put some fancy birthday ribbon on it. I pay for it and she puts it in a fancy Godiva gift bag with some nice tissue paper around it. She asks me if I want a little card and I agree. It’s blank, which I like. I always have to put my words in cards, none of that store-bought nonsense.

I move out to the center of the mall and sit at a quiet table. I have about 30 minutes to kill so I can get things set up. I write a little witty prose in the card and put her name on the envelope. I slide the Starbucks gift card under the ribbon. Now I’ve got a great little gift for my lady.

I head over to Misconduct restaurant at 18th and JFK Blvd. I’m early, and my favorite hostess is there. (See: Mary – Unexpected Table for Two) I tell her what I’m up to and she’s down. She says she’ll hold the gift under the hostess stand next to her purse and we’ll use a code phrase when I want her to bring it to the table. She also reserves my favorite table, #12.

Cherie is texting me that she’s leaving Temple University. I know it’s going to be a nightmare for her to get down here and park. Septa has recently gone on strike again, and that always causes a great deal of major problems for the city and it’s commuters. There’ll be heavier traffic, little parking on the streets, and full parking lots. I recently spoke with an UBER driver, assuming they would be killing it during the strike, but he said no. There are so many more cars on the streets because everybody has to drive in to the city, that they aren’t getting enough fares fast enough to break even. So even the alternative taxi services are screwed when Septa strikes.

Lunch is at 12:30 but I know that Cherie won’t make it until after 1:00pm with all of this nonsense going on. I’m sitting at my table, sipping my water, looking at my phone, and chatting with the staff. I have my little surprise gift hidden and I don’t care how long it takes her to get down here, I’m just happy I’m going to see her.

She’s texting me and getting frustrated. She doesn’t want to be late, but I assure her I understand and to just be safe. She finally finds parking and says she’ll be there shortly. The server jokes that she thinks I’ve been stood up, or this is all just a lie so I could come in and chat with her and the hostess.

“You work for tips, right?”

She laughs.

Cherie arrives. She looks lovely. Custom fit black leather jacket over what appears to be a burgundy top that is low-cut in the front. As she approaches the table, I stand. Her skirt is short and grey. She is wearing black leather ankle boots. That combination showcases her shapely legs. We hug, but avoid the PDA. (Public Display of Affection) She apologizes for being late and compliments me on my patience as always. I really don’t mind waiting for her. I know she comes from a great distance most of the time. Septa has screwed up the city, and finding parking in center city is brutal. It’s not that she’s recklessly late every time. There are just extenuating circumstances that she’s constantly up against to see me.

So baby gets a pass.

She orders some crazy Cowboy Burger that I’ve never ordered and I get my usual Chicken tenders and a little bowl of mac and cheese to share.

Lunch is lovely, and the conversation and laughter are lively. The staff is on point, and the food is great as always. We get the check, and I give them my card. When the server brings it back for me to sign, I give them the code phrase. “Can you tell me when tea time is?” I didn’t come up with this line, the hostess did. She comes over and places the Godiva bag down on the table. Cherie seems really surprised.

“Happy Birthday, Cher. I know you said you didn’t want anything but me for your birthday, but I had to get you a little something.”

“What’s this? You’re so sweet!” She exclaims.  She’s looking at the candy and Starbucks card, but then goes for the little card with her name on it. Opening it quickly she reads it, and starts smiling. It reads:

“Cherie, You’re hot like coffee, but sweet like chocolate” Love, Me XO”

“Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do this.” She’s holding the little card. “I like this…”

We leave the restaurant. We’ve been there for about two hours. Her car is parked all the way down at 20th and Bainbridge. A little bit of a hike from Misconduct. She made better time than I thought. We get to the Saab and hop in. Her skirt is riding up a little. Her thighs are tantalizing. Some kissing ensues. But like I said, it’s still light out, and people are walking by, some with strollers. Her window is open, so if I’m smooching her, and I see someone with kids or a stroller approaching in the rearview mirror, I start talking about church or some bible reference. Hoping they see that we are just good christians having a heartfelt conversation about God. But once they are past, I’m back at her.

We both realize, this whole making out in the car is an invitation to the C-Blockers. We know where this relationship is heading like a speeding train. It’s inevitable. Then I get an idea. I tell her to drive. We go a few blocks east and I have her hang a left.

“When you see a parking spot anywhere up here just hop in it.” We find one right in front of a restaurant. Perfect.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Trust me. You’ll like it.”

It’s getting dark now. I take her to the tanning salon. We walk up the stairs, but instead of going in, we throw a left and open a door to the space in the front of the building that’s unlocked and un-rented This is the spot where Achilles and I were going to open our spin bike gym. It should have been open for three months by now, but the owner decided to sell the building. That put everything on hold. Sadly, the space still remains empty. The one whole wall is glass from floor to ceiling. Great view of the night street below. People are bustling by and the street is filled with angry motorists, blowing their horns and gridlocked because of the Septa strike. The space is quiet and if feels safe above the street. I kill the ceiling fans, and throw the switch to turn off the overhead lights. Now the space is dark. There’s a leather love seat by the window. I push it across the hardwood floor to the back corner. There’s no way anyone can see us from the street. I text my co-worker and friend, Trish, (See: Trish – The She Wolf) who is next door working at the salon that I am in the empty space out front. I decide it’s better if I stop over with Cherie, and make an appearance.

We go next door. Trish is happy to see us. I introduce Cherie to Trish, and I can see they are hitting it off. I tell Trish that we don’t want to sit in a bar somewhere, so we’re just going to be next door enjoying the view and chilling. We go back to our leather love seat next door. I lock the door behind us. So no one can see us coming to the salon and no one can see us from the street.

The romance ensues. It’s such a great space. if someone said to me a year ago, that I’d be not only working at this salon, but I’d be next door in the space where I was supposed to open a spin bike gym, making out with a beautiful young woman, I’d think they were nuts. But here we were. It all felt so illicit. I knew we weren’t doing anything wrong. The space is empty, it’s 7pm at night, no one can see us, and my buddy Trish knows we’re there.

I have vowed to try to keep these stories PG-13, but the limits are slowly being pushed into R rated territory. I don’t know how I can continue to write this story about Cherie, without including some sort of 18+ warning. But maybe I can share a few things that were said over the next hour or so. (Or I will at least embellish so you get it.)

Cherie: “I like your new jeans. Have you tested the zipper enough?”

Me: What? Ohhhhh…. Who are you, Monica Lewinski?

Me: “Okay, so the top you’re wearing is just a one piece jumpsuit? Do you have to take the whole thing down to use the restroom?”

Cherie: “No. There are two snaps right here at the bottom, see?” *Snap! *Snap!

Me: “So from the eyebrows down…no hair?”

Cherie: “Oh my God… You’re incredible. That feels amazing!

You get the picture. It was just a little preview for the coming days, so to speak. It was like we had been shopping for a car for the last few dates. We took a couple out for a little test drive that night, and were ready to make a purchase the next time we we’re together. It was simply inevitable. We literally couldn’t take it anymore. The great thing was. She’s not much of a drinker, so after all of our dates, I have never had one drop of alcohol or smoked a cigarette around her. I don’t mind, because when I’m with Cherie, I want for nothing but her and her alone. It feels great.

So after that bit of third base activity, we decide to get out of there. I walk her to her car and kiss her goodnight. I’m only a few blocks from my house so I head home. It feels nice to walk in the cool October night and reflect on our passion. Cherie said she wants me for her birthday and I want to grant her wish. I just need to figure where and how I can make that happen.

Cherie and I have reached critical mass and something has to be done.

 

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Annabelle – Chapter 6 – Mia Ling: A Solution During Indecision

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

If you’ve been following phicklephilly, and reading the Annabelle series, you’ll realize that pretty Asian girl isn’t Annabelle, but this is Chapter 6 of Annabelle. You’ll soon see why.

I was sitting at the bar at Crow and the Pitcher having a drink when I got the text. It was Annabelle. She said that with everything going on with her birthday this week, would it be alright if we didn’t do the comedy club thing this week.

I felt the pain hit me. I turned to the one person who could help me in this moment.

The bartender.

Who happily, was female. I told her my plight. She said what Annabelle wrote wasn’t a no, it was just a delay. She may really have a lot going on this week. Her birthday was on Thursday and that’s when we were supposed to go out. The bartender told me to text back that it was fine, and that I have some other ideas, and what days she’s available. She gets back to me, and it looks like Sunday will work.

“But I already bought the tickets to see Natasha Leggero at Helium this Thursday.”

“I’ll go with you.” comes a voice to my right.

I look over and there sitting at the end of the bar is a lovely Asian girl. “Are you serious?”

“Forgive me for eavesdropping, but it sounds like whoever you were going to take, passed up a great opportunity.”

I turn to the amused bartender. “Get her another of whatever she’s drinking.”

I walk down and sit next to her at the end of the bar. I introduce myself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Mia.”

We chat and I don’t tell her I really like this other girl, I just kind of play it off as not a big deal. But if she wants to go to the show with me, I’d be happy to take her. She’s into it and I get her number, and we discuss where and when we’ll meet to go to the show. I can’t believe my good fortune. I would obviously rather spend time with Annabelle, but like the song says, “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one your with.

She tells me she works at an art appraisal company. She is Chinese. She tells me her specialty is asian art in particular. She’s pretty. Fair skin, about 5’5” tall, dark brown hair and brown eyes. I like that she was forward about wanting to go to Helium. “I like to laugh, and I’ve seen her on Chelsea Lately.” she says.

After another drink, I have to leave to attend an event. I say goodbye and tell her I’ll text her the day of the show. I’m walking across town and check in with my friend Alice. (See: Alice – 2012 to Present – The Cute Recruiter) I wanted to get a second opinion from a young woman. I tell her what I’m up to and she agrees. She says, if there is a guy she likes, and she sees him on social media with another chick, it makes her want him more. This confirms that what I’m doing is right. I hope it doesn’t backfire on me.

The night of the date, Mia and I meet at El Rey before the show. We’re sipping our margaritas and laughing. She thinks I’m funny, and I feel like the warm up act before the headliner. We finish up and head over to Helium.

There actually are two comics that come on before Natasha. They’re both solid. Then she comes out and she’s really funny. Mia is laughing so much I hope they don’t make any jokes about Asian people.

After the show, Natasha comes out into the lobby and people are talking to her. I walk up and ask her if we can get a picture with her. She’s very sweet and agrees. She comments how cute Mia is during the pics being taken. I tell her thank you, and that I rescued her from human trafficking. Natasha cracks up and so does Mia. Everybody wins!

I post the pic to Facebook, and let it fly. I thank Natasha and Mia for a lovely evening. I walk Mia to her train, give her a smooch, and off she goes.

I pulled it off. I hope it works. Comedy show, seen. Arm candy, documented. Met the headliner and have the pictures to prove it.

I’m walking home, and I text Annabelle that when we were talking she mentioned that she likes seafood. (She’s pescatarian) I suggest we meet at Devon in Rittenhouse on Sunday at 6pm. She says that sounds great.

So there you have it. Everything is going well. I just hope we make it to Sunday with out any more cancellations. Fingers crossed.

 

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Rebecca – Chapter 5 – Cypress and the Oak

Another tale of one man’s journey through the dating scene in Philadelphia, searching for true love.

We headed down Chestnut Street to Mix. I love Mix. It’s just slightly outside of the Rittenhouse bubble. How can you not love a place that has a full bar and serves delicious reasonably priced brick oven pies? Sure Zavino is good down at 13th and Sansom, but I’m not going down there. Too crowded, and too expensive.

We get there and head to the back room. The front of the house looks like a regular pizza place, but you keep walking, and the back is a bar with tables. We grab a high top and look at the menus. It’s clear to me a great weight has been lifted from her shoulders. We order up and sip our beers.

Piping hot delicious pie comes out and all is right with the world.

“What’s better than pizza and beer?” She says, as we tap bottles and take a swig. “Free pizza and beer,” was my reply. She laughs and looks at me while taking a pull from her Corona. “Hey, how come you didn’t ‘Super Like’ me on Tinder?” She quips, smiling.

“What? I don’t ‘Super Like’ anybody.”

“Come on. You must have at least tried it once.”

“Don’t you only get a few of those? You can’t ‘Super Like’ everybody, or people would do it.”

“See? You know about it, so you must have done it at least once.”

“Okay. Maybe once. Now that you mention it, I may have ‘Super Liked’ somebody just to try it.”

“Do you remember who?”

“Maybe it was some really hot little Asian chick.”

“Oh, so you’re into Asian girls.”

“Who isn’t? They’re adorable and smart and nice.”

She laughs. “Did you ever date an Asian girl?”

“I did. When we first got to L.A. I did.”

“I thought you had a steady girlfriend out there?”

“I did. But it was before her. I was 19 years old. Back then the drinking age in New Jersey was 18 and I was legal, but in California it was 21 so I had to get my friend who was 21 to get all of our alcohol. So we were in a bar one night checking out some bands. He got the drinks and brought them to the table and I told him as thanks, I’d bring us some talent to the table.”

“Talent?” she inquired.

“You know what I mean. I went downstairs and met these two sisters. The Yukomatos. One was my buddy’s age and her little sister was my age. I told them we had a table upstairs and asked them to join us and they did. It was easy back then.

” So what happened? Did you guys sleep with the sisters? I think I like this story.”

“No. Well yes. My buddy slept with the older one eventually. I didn’t sleep with the little sister.”

“Why not?”

“She was in love with this older guy that she was banging.”

“Really? I like her already.”

“Oh thanks a lot, you’re happy I didn’t get any loving.”

“No. Think about why I like her…” She gives me that grin and those eyes.

“Ohhh…” I am smiling now. “So how did it all end up?”

“My buddy would ask me to leave our apartment some nights so he could throttle big sister. I remember he used to put a sock on the door knob to let everybody know it was off-limits.”

“Oh my God, that is so college.”

” Well he went to college, I didn’t, so I guess he had a move.”

“You never tried to get baby sister into bed?”

“No, she liked making out with me and stuff, but not much else. Just dating stuff, like going to record stores.”

“So nothing ever?”

“Well, we fooled around some, but she used to like this thing where I stuck my tongue in her ear for periods of time. It used to really drive her nuts. I’ve never met anyone since then that was into that.”

“So her heart belonged to some older guy, huh?”

“Yep. I think she said he was in his thirties or early forties. At the time I just couldn’t understand that. I mean, she had this young, lean rock guitarist, lion cub right in front of her. Me with my long blonde mane of hair and all.”

“Yea, but you were young and inexperienced. Maybe she wanted a man.”

“Well at the time I didn’t understand why she would want that. I was right there.”

“Well, I’m sure he had things that you couldn’t provide.”

“Oh, you mean like expensive dinners, and jewelry and stuff like that?”

” No. Maybe she wanted a gentleman that would take her to the museum, not just to impress her, but could actually appreciate the art, and talk about it. Maybe he took her to the ballet and the symphony. You don’t know. I’m sure she was attracted to you cause you were cute, but maybe she loved him, and that’s why she reserved that part of herself only for him. You might have just been her boy toy.”

“Probably. But I enjoyed being with her because she was cute and nice. I hadn’t ever kissed an Asian girl. I like things that are new and different.”

“Do you see the correlation here?” She says inquisitively.

“I do, Rebecca.”

Were these girls smart?”

“Of course, they were Asian. Their parents worked in pharmaceuticals. They lived out in Washington Hills. That’s a nice area. I’m surprised somebody didn’t call the cops when my 1969 Volkswagen mini bus rolled up, and a German and an Irishman jumped out and went into the house. Their parents were away a lot. Palm Springs and Vegas mostly. They had an intercom in their house. I didn’t even know what that was.”

“Why would someone have that?”

“It was a big house. They had money. I would get on the intercom and pretend to be their father to scare my buddy when he was upstairs in the bedroom fooling around with big sister. I would be like; “Dude! We have to get out of here! Their parents are home! Then I would do an impression of an angry Asian man hollering over the intercom that he was going to kill the dirty Irishman that was deflowering his daughter with his samurai sword.”

Rebecca lost her shit right there. She was laughing so hard she choked on her pizza. It reminded me of when I used to do funny bits at the dinner table with my Mom and sisters. I would actually try to get them to spit out their food, or even better make them laugh so hard they passed something through their noses.

“Oh my God, that is crazy. You’re so funny!” she said.

I have heard that so many times before from women. I would say it is my gift, but it is just the way my mind works. Sometimes people mistake light heartedness as immaturity or simplicity, but they’re all wrong. To be truly funny you have to see the sadness and pain of the world. It’s all time and irony. A mind that can laugh at tragedy. One who can make light of things that are painful or embarrassing is an open mind. One who can laugh at himself. It’s like all great theater. Joy and tragedy. I was so happy to make lovely Rebecca laugh. I haven’t felt this kind of joy since my ex girlfriend Michelle, when we used to talk about everything. And I mean Everything.

Rebecca was ripping into her slices. Baby was happy. She seemed liberated from tonight’s heartbreaking tale. I love to see a lady eat. I hope I can cook for her one day.

“Okay, so what ultimately happened to the Hiroshima twins?”

“Well my buddy went back to Belfast to study law to become a barrister and I kept in touch a little bit with the sisters.”

“That was the end of it?”

“Well one night big sister calls me and says that there is some great band playing at Madam Wong’s East in Chinatown. So I go, and she and baby sister are there and the three of us are hanging out. I’m burning pretty clean that night because I’m driving. Now my buddy has been gone for months. Baby sister isn’t into me at all. I’m fine with that, she’s still with older guy. What if that dude was married the whole time and she’s just his side piece? That would be crazy, but I wouldn’t rule it out. So baby sister ends up leaving and I hang with older sister. She’s a great girl, and ex-girlfriend from one of my best friends in the world. We’re living it up and dancing, and having a great time at the show. I wish I remember who was playing. But if I can’t remember they couldn’t have been that great. I’m happy to be with her and then she tells me something. She says that when we initially met, she was really liking me. She wanted me but settled on my buddy when she saw I was into her hot younger sister. I ended up making out with her that night. There was some grabbing under the table but not much else. I wasn’t that into her but she was a sweet girl. I liked that fact that she was always into me though. We both had a great time and then she went home. I never saw either of them again.”

“It’s still a good story.”

“I guess. One of many. One of the more tame ones.”

“Oh really?”

“Well I was in a band.”

“Ok, rock star, but I still liked the idea that the younger sister was in love with the older gentleman. She knew what she liked.”

“I suppose.”

“Do you go on Tinder a lot?”

“Hardly ever now. I can’t really be bothered with it. It seems so superficial.” (Bold Faced Lie. I’m writing a dating blog!)

“Me either. I’m kinda done with it. You’ve been amazing tonite. Thank you so much for seeing me, and listening to all of my woes.  I feel so much better. I’m glad I let it out. I hope you’re not freaked out by it. I know you didn’t ‘Super Like’ me on Tinder but I’m glad we met just the same.”

“Well for the record, you didn’t ‘Super Like’ me either.” I laughed to make light of this nonsense.

“I know it’s all so silly.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, Rebecca, I’m not afraid to say that I super like you now and hope I can see you again soon. Youre smart and beautiful and I’ve really enjoyed our time together. The museum was amazing because of you, and tonight has been wonderful. I’m just happy to be with you. There. Complete vulnerability, okay?”

“I know we didn’t do the Fringe Festival but  I was just trying t think of stuff to do with you and then I went through my crap. Can we plan something soon?”

My heart is soaring. “Of course. Let’s text and or call. Whatever you want Rebecca. To be honest with you I dated an actress for a while and she liked all that Fringe stuff and I kind of hate it all. It’s fringe for a reason”

“I agree. Maybe we could go to the movies. I don’t care what we see. I trust you’ll pick and it’ll be good. I’m thinking buttery popcorn and candy.”

“I’ll find something good. Maybe I can email you a few previews and we can agree on something.”

“No. You pick. We’re both busy. We’ll make it work. Let’s do a Saturday matinée and then grab drinks afterward so we can chat about the film!”

How great is this? Did I rub a lamp and did this girl come out of it?  We crushed most of the pie. She says how she’s going to be fat from eating so much pizza, but I assure she won’t gain any weight if none of her girlfriends see her do it, so it doesn’t count. Like eating Snickers bars or drinking alone. Oh, wait, that second one is something else.

The bill comes and there is some pie left and we ask for a box. I say to her how it’s funny that the first part of our second date was her story, and then part two was somehow a tale from my past. She says how she would like to hear more of my stories and is fascinated by life and different experiences. She says she would love to travel, but it’s expensive. I tell her I just got my passport for the first time. She says she likes to go to the seashore and I hold back that there is a shore house in my family a block and a half from the beach in North Wildwood. Too early. I like to play some great songs, but don’t play the hits too early. Let’s see where this is going. If it somehow progresses, I’d love to take her to the shore. Just to take a break from the city, and commune with nature by the sea. Oh, who am I kidding? It’ll look like a hooker hotel room in Jersey City in the heat of the night.

I insist on paying. Rebecca giggles and tells me I have to pay because her credit card may be maxed our from her last transaction. “Totally worth it.” She says. It’s late. She has to work tomorrow and save lives. I have to write about this. We walk outside and Philadelphia is surprisingly quiet for once. I’ve had a lovely time with this treasure. The night is clear and the buildings are familiar. I have been on this odyssey for the last ten years and all I can think of is ‘Here we go again’. But I love the euphoria of this moment. The exhilaration of new love. I know that’s what it is. No one has said it. She may not even know what it is. She has had a measure of the pain and searing anguish of love with Derrick, but here it is again. She seems interested in me and may not know what kind of animal she has caught in her snare. But I’m willing to be caught and ready to go.

“I’ve had a wonderful night with you.” She says, taking my hands in hers. She looks up at me. Her eyes are dark and full of light. I don’t question what is happening. “Thank you so much for your time tonight. I can’t thank you enough. I feel like you fixed me. I have been wearing armor my whole life and when I take it off I always get hurt. I feel like I’m safe when I’m with you.” She lifts her hands slowly and gently touches my cheeks and kisses me gently. Her kisses are soft and sincere.

That’s the difference.

There’s no faking that. Ever.

 

Stay tuned for The Return of Rebecca, Part 3 in Two Weeks!

 

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