‘Love is love’ should include all healthy relationships
Have you ever been out to dinner and glanced at another table and noticed an older man dining with a younger woman? Did you judge that man? Did you judge that woman? For many, the first thought is “he’s a pervert,” or “she’s probably a gold digger.” These are said far too often when people encounter individuals involved in an age-gap relationship.
Are friendships, relationships, rapports not respected if those involved are not the same age or undergoing the same phase of life? Today, people are so quick to shame relationships if the individuals involved are not of similar ages. People seem to lose their minds over anything above a seven-year age difference. Without any background information, people everywhere are constantly judging relationships they don’t know anything about.
It is important to note that I am not encouraging older men or women to pursue children. The age-gap relationships I am discussing are those that involve two consenting adults. In other words, both individuals must be over the age of eighteen and out of high school. At this point in people’s lives, they are able to process their thoughts and decisions, and dictate their own lives.
Now, when it comes to relationships in general, the business between the two individuals involved is personal to them, not anyone else. Why do people feel the need to step in and make their opinions known when they see a couple that may be over a decade apart? It is still a relationship, and it is still personal to them. Therefore, they deserve the same respect and privacy all other couples receive.
A common argument against age-gap relationships is that different phases of life are detrimental to the overall well being of those involved in these relationships. Being in different phases of life can lead to challenges in relationships among these individuals. However, we should leave it up to those involved to decide what works for them, what is right for them and what ultimately makes them the happiest. I think we often forget that we are only given so much time on this planet. If one finds themselves deeply in love with a person, regardless of the difference in age between them, who is to say they should not go for it and experience the love and joy that the relationship brings them.
Additionally, our current society does a solid job in advocating for “love is love.” Though this phrase has been traditionally utilized to defend and support homosexual relationships, it should be applied to age-gap relationships. Simply put, if two people are in love, let them bask in it, embrace it and fully experience its depth.
Love is intangible. People do not get to decide when they fall in love or who they are going to fall in love with. Often, love reveals itself at the most unexpected times, not every time love is realized it is wanted. Again, we do not have a choice when it comes to love and natural human connection. When it happens, it should be appreciated to the fullest extent. As long as neither is experiencing unhealthy or inhibitory consequences of the relationship, then the relationship is fine.
Differences in appearance should not matter. Differences in backgrounds should not matter. Differences in age definitely should not matter. So, next time you come into contact with a couple in an age-gap relationship, swallow the judgement, evaluate why you even feel justified to judge and let people enjoy the people that bring them the most joy.
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It seems that there are quite a few women who want to spend their lives with much older men. There is even a special term created for this type of relationship, the May—December romance. It sounds pretty romantic, but some people still look down on couples whose age differs significantly. This happens because they don’t realize that there are amazing reasons why women are attracted to silver foxes.
Now Bright Side knows at least 10 valuable reasons why this happens. And we are going to tell you about them right now.
10. They’re more mature.
It’s common knowledge that women tend to mature earlier than men. That’s why younger guys who are usually at the age where they still want to try different things and explore the world before entering a serious relationship, are just not the right partners for them.
Older men may seem more reliable and attractive to women who are ready for deeper commitments and family. Because these men are more likely to have passed their wild phase and want to settle down.
9. They know stuff.
We all heard that with age comes great wisdom. But there is also an ending of this saying, “but sometimes age comes alone.” It seems that Oscar Wilde was wrong, as studies prove that older men are more intelligent than younger men. And the possible reason is their broader life experience.
Women confirm this finding. They are sure that older men have gone through plenty of life experience that has effectively taught them various lessons. You can see this through their conversations.
8. They know what they want.
Another valuable trait some women highlight is that older men have less mess in their lives — and this means stability. They know exactly what they want, how to get it, and how meaningful it is. That’s why they usually don’t waste anyone’s time playing games. And that’s why they have no barriers when it comes to approaching anyone whose help or advice they need.
7. They’re more financially stable.
Most of women really want to be financially secure. Because when you start a family, you need to make sure that your man has enough money and assets to provide the support you and your kids need. And this is where older men are usually ahead of the game.
An average Joe in his late 20s tends to have fewer assets and less savings compared to older men. Younger guys still have to develop themselves and their careers. They’re looking for financial opportunities, and family is not something they care about in the first place.
6. They are partners.
Mature love is about patience, care, trust, and sometimes independence rather than anything else. But youth is known by its “all-or-nothing” mindset, storms of feelings, and standing ground. If there is at least one person who is wisely ready to take a back seat or at least to initiate the discussion of issues, there is hope for the relationship to last.
That’s why women appreciate when their men are able to be partners and not someone who wants to make the world revolve around him. Women do not need to be told what to do or even “allowed” to do something. Being equal is the thing that actually matters.
5. They have no problem with helping women around the house.
Women do need help with their household chores, and it seems that older men have less biases when it comes to this point. We can see this in a lot of comments from women on Reddit, they say that their older significant others never claimed that household chores were only a woman’s job. For example, some men do the dishes after meals or even wash their own clothes. Of course, it doesn’t mean that they have to do it all the time, but they can be helpful when there is a need.
4. They know how to treat women.
It seems that women appreciate all the relationship experience older men might have had. And it is no wonder since they really have had enough time to develop and practice their skills for treating women right.
The knowledge of what makes love fail or go on gives them a bit of advantage. They understand what women usually need and what will make them happy. They know how to avoid (or at least try to avoid) the same problems they have already been through. And this makes the relationship that much easier.
Older men have a unique attractiveness that triggers something in women. First of all, it’s in their appearance — noble wrinkles around their eyes, salt and pepper hair, light stubble in some of them. They also have their own way of presenting themselves, and women like the way they act, laugh, and behave. They stand out thanks to their unique sense of style because they don’t usually follow fashion trends as closely as college aged boys.
2. They don’t seek out drama.
Let’s face it, women are pretty emotional creatures. They can easily exaggerate things and act without thinking. That’s why it is important for them to have men who are able to make them stop and breathe. And it appears that older men tend to have this skill.
We believe that they just don’t look for any drama or conflict anymore. They prefer not to argue over ordinary problems. And even if there is an issue they can sit down and talk it out like adults and come up with a solution that will be beneficial for all parties.
1. They provide a feeling of security.
Some women mentioned security in their comments, and we can’t omit this point either. In fact, security is one of our basic needs, according to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. And what can make women secure and comfortable in their everyday lives? We believe that all the things we’ve discussed above can do this.
You need money and other assets to be financially secure. You need a reliable partner to spend your life with. And you need to know where your life is going. It seems that older men are better able to provide all of these things and make us feel safe.
Do you find older men attractive? Why do you like them?
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
All relationships have advantages and pitfalls. May-September relationships (where the man is significantly older than the woman, usually by at least a generation) have their special challenges. Knowing what to expect can make the difference in the relationship.
1
Determine why you are choosing someone older as a relationship partner.
Sometimes the relationship is a superficial one, based upon the man’s financial situation. This stereotype is seen often in the media, and therefore makes people immediately think that if you’re with an older man, it’s because of his money.
Other women prefer much older men because they are attracted to the knowledge, experience and/or wisdom that comes with those years.
Still other women prefer older men, but only if they appear to be younger than they are. This helps negate some of the “gold digger” comments.
Still other women choose older men because they had an unhappy or nonexistent relationship with their father, and are trying to fill that hole they feel in their lives.
Other women have a “caretaker” instinct that draws them to older men who genuinely care and appreciate their kindness.
There are also women who are sexually attracted to men with wrinkles and gray hair.
Older men tend to be more grateful for their relationship with someone younger, and are somewhat less likely to cheat.
2
Realize that you’ll have to deal with prejudice.
You’ll be mistaken for the man’s daughter or granddaughter on occasion.
Prepare to hear people humming “You’re Sixteen” and “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” near you.
Some friends will immediately think your boyfriend is creepy and will think you crazy for dating this man. You may have to convince them of his good qualities.
3
If the relationship would be an illegal one, strongly consider the consequences.
This means that if you’re under 18, you could be subjecting the person you want to date to possible criminal charges. Even your consent is not enough to overcome statutory rape. It is in the man’s interest that you keep the relationship platonic until a romantic relationship is legal.
4
Remember to include your boyfriend in some of your activities, and let him know that he’s welcome to include you in some of his activities.
This will help people see that you two are not just a “secret” embarrassing item, but that you two actually do have a relationship built upon attraction, respect, trust, and shared experiences.
5
Think about the future, especially if you consider marriage.
If you want to start a family. An older parent isn’t necessarily a bad thing … children are born to parents who are in their 40s.
If you’re in a March-November relationship instead of a May-September relationship (a 2-generation difference) then you need to prepare for the very real possibility that you will outlive your partner while you are still young or early middle-aged. Be sure end-of-life concerns are taken care of for your partner, and that you are emotionally ready for the stress: both during the relationship and after.
6
If you two really do love each other for the right reasons, most people will eventually accept your relationship. Those who don’t either can’t see past their prejudices or don’t care about your happiness.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.
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.
After our epic 10 hour date last Saturday, we decided to go again this weekend. This would technically be our 4th date, but it felt like our 7th. I knew I couldn’t top last week, but I wanted to come up with some fun activities to do with my latest lady.
I looked online for any happenings. It was Halloween weekend, so I figured there must be something fun to do. The pumpkin event at Headhouse? No. Mini Golf in Northern Liberties? Fuck Northern Liberties. The weather was supposed to be nice. Maybe we could get on the big red double-decker bus and tour the city. I know the city pretty intimately, but it would be fun to get the official tour and be out in the fresh air on one of the last warm days of Autumn.
I go online and buy a pair of tickets. $60. Not bad. Here’s how it works. You go to 5th and Market Streets. The buses run every half an hour. You give them you ticket, and get on the bus whenever you want. That ticket is now good for the next 24 hours. The bus tours around the city and stops at 15 different landmarks. There are even tour guides on every bus telling you what it is you’re looking at. One of the best parts of this tour is, you don’t have to stay on the bus the whole time. You can get off at any number of stops at any time. Why didn’t I ever think to do this with Michelle when we were together? (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day) You chill on the tour, hop off somewhere. Grab a bite. Have a few drinks and then get back on. You could literally eat and drink your way around the whole city for a day. All the while learning things about our fair city. It would be like having your own personal driver and tour guide, while you get hammered all over the city. Genius.
But it wouldn’t be like that with Cherie. She’s a different cat all together. I tell her to meet me at 5th and Market at 1:30pm. I’d like us to start the tour around 2pm. So I have we have this thing called “Cher-time.” I always allow her an extra half hour before we’re supposed to meet at a proposed time. She’s driving down from Pottstown. There could be construction, detours, weather, etc. I’m hardcore about the clock and being on time as you well know, but I’ll make an allowance here. Because it’s she who is driving all the way into the city to see me.
So, I ordered the tickets and printed them out on Friday night. Within an hour, I get a text from Cherie, that she is having babysitter issues, and she won’t be able to get down to Philly until 4pm. That throws a wrench in things. If it were summertime, it wouldn’t matter if we got on the tour at 4pm, because it stays light until after 8pm. But this time of year it’s starting to get dark at 6pm and it’s getting colder at night.
I call the Big Red Bus Company. I tell them my dilemma. The really cordial guy who answered the phone tells me those tickets can be used at anytime. They’re only activated when I actually present them and step on a bus. I was afraid they would expire or I somehow wasted $60, but no. I can use these tickets for another future date, with Cherie!
She doesn’t know any of this is happening, it’s all behind the scenes. I think she’s just a little sad she can’t get down here sooner. I tell her I have everything under control. She says that she loves a man in control.
I like her words.
She’s on her way down and texts me that there is a detour up around 307, because of some rowing event. I tell her not to worry, and just take her time and be safe. She later texts me from 23rd and Cherry. I tell her I’m waiting for her at 21st and Pine. Somehow she gets a little lost, but finally gets to me. I hop in the Saab and off we go. I tell her about the bus tour thing and initially I could tell she was sad that it was too late to do it. I’m looking at her sweet pout lip. I tell her not to worry because we can use them anytime. She’s happy about that. I tell her it’s another day of dating that’s already paid for. I told her if we’re up on the top-level of the bus it may get a little chilly but we can sit in the back of the bus and cuddle to stay warm. She says she’s down for that for sure. I ask her if she has a problem sitting in the back of the bus. She laughs and tells me she does not. It’s not racially insensitive if the person you are with is intelligent and you’re dating her.
I don’t really have a plan at this point. It’s 5pm now. She drives up to a parking lot back out at 23rd and Cherry streets, It’s pretty deserted. She pulls in. There is no attendant. There are some signs up that say weekend permits only. It almost appears we could just park here and nobody would even know the lot is so empty. But being the honest person Cherie is, she pulls up and leans out the window. She starts putting cash in the machine. I glance over at her. She’s half way out the window because she didn’t pull close enough to the machine. Her shirt rides up her back and I see a horizontal patch of lovely brown skin. Framed above her jeans is lacy turquoise underwear. Is she doing this on purpose?
We pull in and she picks this isolated spot. It’s still light out but dusk is approaching. We’re chatting and catching up. But that slowly turns into dreamy kissing. This goes on for a while and becomes quite passionate.
It’s getting dark and Cherie seems to have no interest in going anywhere or seeing anything around the city. She’s content to stay here and be with me. So I start to feel like something is about to happen in the moment of passion. I feel like a teenager again. Making out with a pretty girl in a car in the dark. And then it happens.
The C-Block. The CB. Doesn’t a Police vehicle pull into the lot and circle around and park about 30 feet away at my 10 o’clock position? Just sits there. Motor running. Headlights shining outward. I can’t believe this is happening again. Cherie says the cops can’t see what her hands are doing below the dashboard. She also notes that the idea of law enforcement parked there while things are happening in here heightens the thrill.
It has become clear to me at this point that Cherie is very interested in me. I’m happy about this. I have been on this dating odyssey, and it’s as if I had to go on all of those dates for this woman to be delivered to me. I’ve learned much on this journey. But like she once said to me…” Be careful for what you wish for.” She’s intelligent, funny, easy-going, beautiful, fit, and on the right side of thirty. I think I just checked off every box on my list. Now it appears there is only one box left that needs checking.
But not in front of the cops.
I suppose some of you may be wondering why I don’t just take her back to my apartment and throttle her. I didn’t want to mention this before but I have a 19-year-old daughter. She lives with me. When she came to me during her senior year in high school, I was single. Technically I still am. I don’t want to start bringing strange women into the house just yet. I haven’t even discussed it with her. If she were sitting on the sofa and I just came rolling in with some young chick, and took her back to the bedroom, that just wouldn’t be cool. Maybe when I know the place is clean, and my daughter is away for the weekend for sure. I’m sure the situation is the same for Cherie. Her son is 6 years old. It’s just weird bringing a strange man into mommy’s bed. I have a lot of will power and am a very patient man. I’m not worried. We’ll figure it out.
Anyway, we’re getting antsy. Cherie suggests we take a walk. I agree. It’s a nice night. This way the police sitting there for the last hour doing nothing will see that we are clean upstanding citizens. Not some interracial couple that has to hide their forbidden romance in some vacant lot on the outskirts of town.
We walk a ways. So I figure maybe I’ll take her somewhere and get her something to eat. But she has other plans. We walk a few blocks and end up on this small street with very little on it. We get to the middle of the block and she stops. She just wants to hang out and make out. I can’t believe this is happening. When I think of all of the drinks and dinners I bought for these other women, and felt nothing, this little vixen just wants to play with me. This goes on for about 45 minutes. It’s a deserted street. We’re right in the middle of the block facing each other. So I can see if anybody is walking up the street or if a car is coming. She can do the same in the opposite direction. Again, I feel like I’m 17 years old and I’m out at night with my 14-year-old girlfriend, Anne. We’re just holding each other and chatting and kissing and gazing into each other’s eyes.
Feels like love to me.
From the very first meeting we just sort of clicked. I thought she was great chill girl. She liked that I was a white gentleman that made her laugh. Yes, I did gather more intel on this date. Her son’s father clipped her when she was 17 years old. He was in his 30’s. He was white. She said they waited until she was 18 to have sex. I agreed with that idea. (Avoid those pesky statutory rape laws.) Apparently he was married and has 4 other children! She says she was not the home wrecker. They bet in a bar but I didn’t push her for details. I asked her to describe him. I didn’t know what to expect. She simply said. 5’9″ okay looking. A douchebag. Also she seems a little sore that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with his son with her. But he does pay child support. So kudos, buddy. But put some more time in with your boy, asshole. You only get one chance.
They’re only children ONCE.
But here’s the best part of all of that. She works in a pediatrician’s office as one of her two jobs. She says she loves children. She wants to be a doctor that practices pediatric neurosis when she finishes her education. That’s awesome. So I’m assuming, young woman, loves kids, already has one would probably want another one or two to round out the dinner table. Based on these stories you know that my last 3 relationships all ended for that reason. I already have been married. I have a child. I have paid over $125,000 in tax-free money to someone who is not a nice person and hurts those around her. My ex-wife has already burned through her second marriage and has another kid.
But I digress.
Oh sure, I could get married and have another kid and live happily ever after. Sure that could happen. But based on my track record, it’s a sucker’s bet. If I did that and somehow fucked it up again. My child support payments would be coming out of my Social Security checks. No. Just place the gun in my mouth and gently curl your finger so that everything I ever was ends up on the wall behind me.
So I pull the trigger. The lynch pin in this lovely, seemingly perfect romance. Because this way I don’t have to say my last 4 relationships ended for the same reason. I can still say 3, because this beautiful flower that has grown between Cherie myself in the last few weeks will be stomped into the earth under the hob nail boot of reality. Doomed from the start. Destroyed before it could ever flourish.
“Do you want more children, Cherie?”
Tune in 2 weeks from now for the chilling conclusion to this deal breaking tale!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.
Saturday arrived. I woke up relatively early. Philly had periods of showers but the rain was supposed to stop around 1pm, so that was good. I didn’t want another rainy day date with Cherie. But actually I was looking forward to seeing her so the weather didn’t really matter.
I stopped by the salon to drop off some detergent and bring my friend Trish some fives for the register. She was hung over from a night of Jameson at Tattooed Mom’s with her friends on South Street. She stopped drinking alcohol about a year ago, because she said she didn’t like how she behaved on it. Said it made her angry. Trish is angry anyway and I can only imagine what a nightmare she is on booze. That’s probably part of the reason she can’t function without smoking marijuana everyday and drinking oceans of coffee just to get through the day. I’ll be writing a chapter about her in the near future but for now I’ll stick to the events of today.
I give Trish the fives and she hands me a twenty out of the register. I’m walking across the lobby to take a seat and chat with her for a bit when she says. You have a hole in the back of your pants. I’m like, “Stop checking out my sweet ass.”
“Seriously dude. You have a huge hole in your pants. Don’t you feel that?”
I reach back and sure enough, there is a pretty good-sized hole there.
“I didn’t want you going out on your date today with a big old hole in your pants, dude.”
I joke that maybe I could guide Cherie’s hand to it in the movie theater for some cheap thrills.
“It’s the 3rd date!”
“I hate that shit!”
I tell her I agree. I don’t know if you all know this but a lot of young people are under the impression that the 3rd date equals sex. Which I find stupid. In all seriousness I would rather get to know someone and if there is a mutual attraction, the sex should just happen as a celebration at some point. There should never be a deadline related to intercourse. That almost sounds predatory.
So I head back to my apartment to put on another pair of jeans. I grab a pair and realize I haven’t worn them in a while. Like two years. They are a 36 waist. I now wear a 32 waist, but can do a 34 with a belt. They’re just too big and I look ridiculous. I grab another pair. Another hole in the seat. What’s going on here? Did I wear out the seat of two pair of jeans? I know I see the occasional mouse here in the building but what sort of butt munching rodents do we have around here?
I find a pair that are in decent shape with no holes in the seat, and put them on. This will have to do. I go downstairs and summon an UBER. While driving down to Columbus Boulevard to the multiplex, I chat with my driver, Hanna. She asks me what movie I’m going to see. I tell her the lady I’m taking likes scary movies, so we’re seeing, ‘Ouija: Origin of Evil.’ Some how she gathers from our conversation that my date is younger than me. She asks, and I tell her she’s a little younger. She tells me about a male friend of hers, who is 50 something and was dating a woman in her 40’s and just wasn’t happy. He said that women his age were all carrying all the same baggage. He’s now dating a woman around 30 and says that younger women are just more fun. I say that I agree, but when you date younger women they all eventually want to get married and have kids. She says that her friend is always up front about that sort of thing. Maybe I should have been clear about that in my last 3 failed relationships. And here I am being driven to what could possibly be a 4th similar destination.
She lets me out and I go into the lobby and get in line for tickets. The movie starts at 1:50 and it is now 1:30. I get the tickets and as I turn to wait for Cherie, she appears. On time. Early. I like that. It’s really nice to see her. Even though it’s only been four days since our last encounter.
Her hair is up in a bun, exposing her lovely slender neck. makes me think about how I kissed that neck on Tuesday. She’s wearing a yellow blouse, and light brown slacks. They cling to her shapely legs.
We are about to enter our auditorium and we notice the floor is really sticky. Someone must have spilled a soda there, and they tried to mop it up but didn’t get it all up. Now I’ve been to plenty of movie theaters in my time, and have jokes about the sticky stuff and detritus that is on the floor of the theaters, but this was really sticky. I had to laugh out loud. I practically had to curl my toes to keep my shoes from being pulled off by that sticky floor. Just a classic ‘out at the movies’ moment.
We go in and decide that we both like to sit in the back of the theater. I ask her if she wants anything to eat. I suggest some delicious buttery popcorn. She says it’s ok but doesn’t like how it can stick in your teeth. She says she likes chocolate, but not dark chocolate. I tell her I love dark chocolate. She smiles and knows what I mean. I really do prefer dark chocolate to milk chocolate, but I also love the color of her skin. I go and mortgage my house at the concession stand on exorbitantly expensive snacks. Medium popcorn, medium cherry coke, bottle of water, and a bag of snickers minis for baby. $21. The food was as much as the tickets. The kid behind the counter even told me I could upgrade to a large popcorn and a large soda for $.50 more. I compliment him on his up-sell, but politely decline.
I get back to Cherie. I get all of our snacks and drinks squared away and sit down. “How did you know I loved Snickers?” she asks. “Well I’m funny and you like to laugh, so I figured, Snickers. she smiles and we settle into the previews. There aren’t many people in the theater. I like that. There’s also no late arrivals and no one is sitting in front of us. I love that as well. People are getting seated and chattering a little but that’s acceptable during the previews. We’re whispering closely. Then we kiss. It’s really nice. I feel like a teenager. I haven’t smooched in a movie theater in years. It was so sweet to hold hands too. She rubbed my arm and caressed my hand, and I was even so bold as to rub her leg and knee. It was all very gentle and romantic. What a refreshing difference from the crap women I went on dates with a few months ago. But I’m really enjoying this elegant romantic odyssey.
There is one rub that I have to mention. It’s happened a few times since then. We call it the C-Block, or the CBs. Cherie and I are in the very back row of the theater. All the way in the aisle to the right against the wall. There is only one way out. Doesn’t some pair of fucknuts sit at the very end of the aisle? This couple just sort of drops it there. One row down would have been fine. But they are right now, in OUR aisle. They could have sat anywhere. There weren’t that many people in the theater. It’s just a human thing. Homo Sapiens are such social animals they have to be together all the time. I can tell Cherie doesn’t want them there and neither do I. But there’s nothing we can do. Nothing but make a bunch of trips to the snack bar and the bathrooms. This way we can thrust our delicious firm buttocks right in their stupid faces.
Oh, never mind. It’s just annoying, we just wanted some private time to neck in the back of the theater!
The movie was a pretty by the numbers horror flick. I’d give it a solid three and a half stars. Demon possession, scary children, and good sudden frights do make you jump. We shared the popcorn and the candy. It was lovely. I was happy to be there sharing this Halloween treat with her.
After the film, we went outside. The sun was out and the rain was gone. It had been warm during the week, but had suddenly turned chilly in the last couple of days. Cherie always has trouble finding a place to park in the city, but down by the movie theater there is always loads of parking spots. We walk over to her Saab, and hop in to get out of the chill. We’re chatting about our next move, (which I have already planned) and more kissing ensues. She tells me she was hoping I would agree to sit in the back of the theater so we could neck. It appears this girl really likes me. She says she likes how soft my hands are. It makes me think of Captain Quint when he grabs Matt Hooper’s hands in the film Jaws, and says “You’ve got city hands, Mr. Hooper, from counting money all your life!” That, and the scene in Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men” when one of the men on the farm puts petroleum jelly in his one glove to keep is hand soft for when he touches his woman. I don’t know why my mind flashed to those two images but for a moment they do.
I suggest we go over to Dave and Buster’s to go play games together. She likes the idea. I will say this about my lovely neuroscience major. She is very bright and quick of wit, but extremely laid back and easy-going. She’s from California, and this chick is chill. I always compliment her about her sweet disposition, because I really like that about her. Peaceful is good. She tells me, that between her two jobs, going to class, and taking care of her son, she has to make many decisions every day. She says she likes how I take charge, and just tell her where we’re going and what time it’s happening. I always have a plan and take the lead. She finds that attractive. So take note male readers, many women like to be told what you’re doing with them and where you’re taking them. Women are great negotiators and communicators, but when it comes to picking a lunch spot, just tell them pizza or sushi or just take them somewhere they serve different stuff and go. I have to give thanks here to my late father in regard to the clock. If he told you something was going to happen, or we were going to be somewhere at a specific time, it happened without error. He taught me that your word is your bond, and always be punctual. Like Beau Bridges says to Michelle Pfieffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys, “Punctuality is the first rule of show business.” Life itself is like a giant long series. You’re the star of your own show. Make it a fun, exciting show if you can. To sum up: Girls like a take-charge man.
Don’t be a guy.
Be a man.
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am EST.
I love Emily. She’s a doll. 4’11, sweet girl that looks 15. I’m supposed to meet her at 6pm. It’s around 4:30 and I have some time to kill. I stop at 1518 on Sansom for a glass of wine. I chat with the owner about business. He introduces me to one of the regulars, named Sam. He’s been a barber that has a salon over Oscar’s bar a few doors down. I didn’t even know there was anything over that dive.
I like the guy. He has all these great tales from the old days. Sinatra, Martin, etc. He’s well into his sixties. He told me cut Eddie Fisher’s hair back in the 60’s. I’m thinking my regular stylist hasn’t been doing the best job with my hair lately. I want to go to this old Philly guy. That’s who should be cutting my hair. A pro that’s been doing it for four decades and has good stories. So he gives me his card and I tell him I’ll come see him when I need a cut.
He tells me not to let anyone else in his salon cut it. It has to be him. I promise the old guy I’ll do that.
I have a few wine’s with him and listen to more stories before I leave for my meet up with Emily at and Asian fusion bar called Dan Dan.
My buddy Chet is there bartending, so no matter what time it is, it’ll be happy hour all night for me. I order my usual chardonnay with a side of ice.
Emily shows up a little while after that and she looks adorable as always. Black lacy top, black tights, high heels, long lashes. She looks hot.
She orders her usual go to, a whiskey and coke.
She said her life has been much better since we last hung out. She’s still employed at the restaurant, but she’s working mostly events upstairs now. She has landed a gig at Live Nation which she is super amped about. Planning and managing live musical events and concerts is what she really wants to do, and getting this job has gotten her one step closer to her goal.
Emily expresses to me that she feels better about herself and no longer feels like she’s a piece of meat to anyone. She was alone for awhile and worked on herself and I think that’s great. Hopefully what I told her last time I saw her helped.
Recently she’s met someone she really likes. She met him in Florida, but he’s from Indiana. I’m all for long distance relationships, but Indiana is a bit of a drive from Philly. But I’m rooting for these kids. She says he’s good to her and she really likes him.
She orders up some pot stickers and wings. The food is great at Dan Dan, and Emily just doesn’t go out much because she’s always working and has little money. She’s loving it.
She turns to me. “See those two middle-aged women across the bar?”
“Yes.”
“They totally think you’re my Sugar Daddy!”
“Really?”
“Oh yea. I can tell just the way they’re looking at us.”
“Oh gosh!”
“No. I like it! I think it’s fun!”
“Okay.” (I’m totally loving it)
Nate hooks us up with the happy hour pricing that goes beyond 7:00pm. We discuss more about her life and I tell her what’s happening with the phicklephilly and the soon to be open fitness center.
We’ve been there for a little while and we know we’re ready to go soon. She excuses herself to use the ladies room. I see my opportunity. I grab the bill from Chet and quickly pay it. When she returns and I’m siting there with my blazer on she knows what’s up.
“You got the bill?”
“Well you are my Sugar Baby.”
“Where we going now Daddy?”
We head over to the Sofitel Hotel to the Libete Lounge. It’s a dark posh bar that’s quiet and the music is always soft and in the background, not coming at you. My buddy Liam the bartender and the girls are working but I just want to show Emily the place. She would never have a drink here. I’m trying to broaden her horizons.
“Wow. This place is so nice!”
“Yea, and it’s right across from where you work and you’ve never been here.”
I go with my usual chardonnay and baby goes with whiskey. They server brings us the little snack tray with the nuts, popcorn and olives. I know it doesn’t take much to impress a 23-year-old girl, but I don’t see little Emily that much and I really enjoy her company.
We only hang there for the one drink because I have my grand finale planned. I tell her I want to take her one more place. She is more than game. I can tell she’s having a good time. We split the bill and head over to The Gran Caffe L’Aquilia on Chestnut Street. She’s never heard of it, but I know she’ll love it. Great two-story Italian place.
What she doesn’t know is that I know the bartender upstairs through my buddy Church, and he gives me the hookup. But I also know one of the owners because he comes in the salon to tan. But what strengthened that relationship is that one day he lost a gift card in one of the rooms. I found it a few days later under the bureau when I was sweeping, and returned it to him. He doesn’t speak much English but when I saw him in the salon the next time and whipped out his lost card, his face lit up like it was Christmas day. That card must have been loaded. Without the card, whatever money was on there would have been lost if I hadn’t returned it to him. My coworker, Summer told me I should have just kept it, but as you know, she’s a cunning little outlaw.
I order a chardonnay and I don’t remember what she ordered. She says she’s had a tough week. Just roommate stuff and the usual problems that most twenty somethings in this city face everyday.
I order her some calamari and we rip into that. It’s delicious. Then I start telling her about the gelato flights they serve here. I tell her she must try it. She’s had a few drinks and she is ready to roll with that dessert.
“Luciano, could you please do the honors and pick the best flavors you have?”
“As long as one of them is pistachio!” Emily chirps.
He brings them out and they look amazing. They serve the five gelatos each one on it’s own long, elegant spoon. I tell her I can’t eat a lot of this type of food, so I’m just going to use my fork to take a little nip off the end of each one just to get the taste and then she can have the lion’s share of each spoon.
She agrees, and I tap the first one. I take a tiny bit off the end and then watch as this woman/child grabs the spoon and puts the whole dollop into her mouth in one bite.
This happens four more times and each one is exquisite. I’m glad she wanted the pistachio because it was especially good.
Emily is raving about how wonderful it all is and she’s so happy and is having a fabulous night. What Emily may not realize is I’m showing her what it’s like to be out on a date with me. But the bigger lesson here is: Emily, this is how men should treat you when they take you out. Wine and dine you and treat you like a lady, instead of getting you loaded and trying to finger you in the back seat of some car.
Luciano suddenly appears again with a tint glass cup of pistachio for the lady. He’s a class act and Emily is absolutely delighted.
She tears into it like a teenage girl on her 15th birthday. (yea..I make these references just to give it a bit of lechery)
So after two Chardonnay, her cocktail, and order of calamari, and a flight of their best gelato, the bill comes to $22.
Yea. Hookup. I pay the bill and she throws in some for the tip. We say our goodbyes and thank Luciano for the great service and hospitality. She’s still raving about what an absolutely wonderful night she’s had with me. She hugs me and I kiss her cheek.
“How are you getting home?”
“I’ll take the subway.”
“No sugarbaby of mine rides the subway.
I call her an UBER and send her on her way.
Little Emily smiles and waves as the dark sedan disappears into the night.
I turn and make the short walk home down 17th street back to Rittenhouse. I light a cig and breath in what is left of this beautiful evening.
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“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!
Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.
“I’m in my date’s bedroom, she’s lying on her bed, drugged and intoxicated, she takes off her top (now topless), grabs my neck and starts kissing me. Her mom, who is standing there, leaves the room to give me some privacy to do what can only be considered date rape.”
I’ve been using Tinder for over a year or so now, and I’ve always been pretty lucky. However, this incident was a different story.
Flashback a day earlier, we matched on tinder. I’m chatting with hot Adalyn. Raven hair, tan skin, and dark eyes. From her pics, I can see she has a smokin’ body. She’s definitely on the right side of twenty-five.
I suggested we skip the long chats and go for a drink, she suggested we chat on the phone first. We did for an hour and it was nice. Some laughs, some flirting and we agreed to spend the next morning in the park. We met, everything is going great and all signs are saying we’ll end up having crazy sex very soon. Left the park, had lunch and then agreed to go back to my place. She said she needed to pass by her place to change and get some stuff. No problem.
Things were moving quickly.
She introduced me to her mom, her dog, her cat and some neighbors. Seemed like she was getting a little too cozy for a tinder date. Then she said: “change of plans. My mom is going to spend the night at my brother’s place. Would you mind spending the night here instead?” I thought, why not? I’m getting lucky so I don’t care. She started preparing dinner and I started drinking. She started pounding drinks as well. I was feeling pretty good, but I could see she was already getting pretty banged up. Turns out her mom is going nowhere, and I had too much to drink. So in my drunken mind I decide to stay with them for the night.
That’s when things started to get crazy. The dinner table had shrimp and oysters with bacon (which I hate). So I started eating the shrimp, when my date offered some oysters. I politely declined and said I was happy with the shrimp. She insisted so much it got awkward, so I took it. She asked me if I liked it, I smiled and said nothing. She started getting angry, and yelled at me that I should be more direct and speak up. I told her I didn’t like it. It might be good but it’s not for me. She started yelling at me and demanding an explanation why I don’t like it.
That’s when her mom jumped in and tried to defuse the situation. To my surprise, Adalyn grabbed the shrimp plate and threw it across the room straight into the wall. Then she stormed away into her room.
That’s when her mom explained to me that Adalyn had been in and out of rehab because of depression and alcohol abuse. She also had two suicide attempts, and that she was on medication. She was not supposed to have any alcohol.
Now I’m feeling really sorry for her.
After awhile, she came out of her room, laughing as if nothing happened, and brought out some dessert and more champagne. Things seemed to be cool now. I tried to relax. But then, quite suddenly, she stood up and challenged me to a fight. She started throwing punches at my chest and stomach and then to my face. I was blocking or slipping all the punches and asking her to stop. Then she got really vicious, and started adding kicks to her attack. I grabbed her arms, put my weight on her, and took her to the ground. She totally collapsed and lay there unconscious.
I carried this poor deranged thing to her bed. When she opened her eyes, she smiled and then all of a sudden took her off her top, (now topless) grabbed my neck, and started kissing me. Her mom, who was still standing there, left the room to give me privacy to do what could only be considered date rape. (which I obviously didn’t do) I pushed her away, and started walking backwards out of the room, when she gave me a final kick to the stomach goodbye.
I ran out of the house and down the street. I called an UBER and was on my way back to Rittenhouse.
Not crazy enough? I woke up the next morning to a few missed calls from my date. A couple of voicemails with a casual apology, and a couple of ideas for our second date.
What?
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“She has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?”
I was literally about to begin writing this, and I just got a text from Cherie, so I hope that means something. I’ve responded back with “You must be psychic! I was just thinking about you.” (I was thinking about her because I was just about to write the first half of this very chapter.)
We swiped right on each other on Tinder. Cherie is a 26-year-old attractive, fit, black woman whose zodiac sign is Scorpio. When we first connected I sent her a simple, hello. She got back to me and said she was doing well, but she sitting in a boring class. She’s apparently studying developmental neuroscience. Once the small talk and pleasantries were dismissed, I asked her my standard question. “What prompted you to swipe right on my profile?”
She expressed that she liked the things I wrote in my bio. She said she likes to laugh and dine out, and like me, she’s a good listener. That’s pretty standard fare so far. Everybody likes to laugh and go out to dinner.
I truly hope that she’s a good listener, because I like to talk.
Then she asked me the same question. I told her that she seemed like an intelligent person who wanted to do big things. I really just read her brief profile about her being a neuroscience and psychology major, that had high dreams and aspirations, and spun it back to her in my own words.
I’ve heard from several of the women I’ve spoken to on Tinder that many times when they connect with someone, there is this long period of texting. Sometimes it doesn’t materialize into anything. Since I’ve operated in the real world my whole life, I like to establish things soon, and try to get a meeting. Sound like I’m in sales? I am. Depending on the client you always want to close as soon as possible. Keeps your numbers up and your pipeline full. So I move right in and ask her if she’s like to meet up for a drink sometime.
She thanks me for the compliment and agrees she has big dreams. (I know, I read it on your profile.) She says that having a drink with me sounds like a great idea. That was fast. My next response was positive affirmation and my cell number. She says she’ll send me a text.
Now, that looks like it happened very quickly but it actually didn’t. I was living my life all day, and she was probably in and out of classes and whatever else. That brief and pointed exchange began at 9:45am and ended at 3:30pm. Five and a half hours later! Now I just had to wait to see if she was going to text me.
Within moments she did. We continued our conversation off Tinder. She went on to tell me that she works as a medical assistant at a hospital, and also works at a pediatric office! 2 jobs and school? Wow! I tell her briefly my stuff, and she goes on to say that she loves her jobs because she gets to help people, but they can be stressful. I then hit her with how I get my energy from people and enjoy bringing people together personally and professionally. She likes that, and reveals that she’s a shy person at first but then she opens up after a bit.
I try to get her out for a Wednesday night drink.
I don’t hear from her for the rest of the day. She finally gets back to me and apologizes for the silence. She had a very long day with school and work. She re-affirms that she’d like to meet me for a drink, but she works late on Wednesdays but the weekend is probably better. I tell her I’m free Saturday. She’s available in the afternoon. I lock it down for 2pm Saturday. I tell her I’ll pick the spot. She thinks that sounds great.
That was early in the week. A lot can happen in 5 days. So I ping her Wednesday just to keep the current going. We participate in some light banter about the weather and our days events.
I ask another one of my standards: “What do you like to do when you’re not working or studying?” She likes movies, dining out and dancing, etc. I tell her I’m a former musician and not much of a dancer, but love movies and dining out too. I want to know what kind of movies she likes because that would be a splendid second date.
She likes scary movies and thrillers. I tell her I like the same. (I actually like a myriad of film genres but for this exchange, liking the same thing she likes works) I follow with “Let’s go to the movies together soon!” See what I did there? I’m actually setting up a second date with a woman I haven’t even met for the first time yet. I’m reading her responses. She’s smart. I don’t ask or suggest, I simply say: “Let’s go see a movie together soon.” She responds with, “That sounds like a great idea. Notice how she uses the word “Sounds?” She is a good listener like she said. It reminds me of a thing that my ex-girlfriend Michelle does when I talk to her. She stays attentive to what I’m saying and usually mirrors my words back to me in affirmation. I like that Cherie is doing the same thing. Michelle does that all the time. (See: Michelle – 2007 to Present – A Brand New Day) I love Michelle for that. and she doesn’t even know about her gift. (Ordoes she?)
Cherie says she hasn’t seen too many commercials for scary movies lately. I tell her I’ll look into it. She responds that she thinks that’s nice. I like her manners already. I just hope that if I take her to a scary movie she doesn’t start yelling things like: “Don’t go in there!” or “Get out the house, fool!”
I’m going to go ahead and apologize to everyone reading this in advance for that last bit.
It’s getting late. As a gentle reminder, I tell her she seems really cool, and that I’m really looking forward to meeting her on Saturday.
Crickets.
But at 7:30 the next morning I get a mirrored response. “Good Morning. Thanks you seem cool as well. I’m looking forward to meeting you.” I simply respond with a smiley face. Which brings us back to tonight when I began this chapter. As I finish this part she has responded. “Lol, I highly doubt I’m psychic but thanks. It’s a busy but productive day as well.”
The date is supposed to happen on Saturday. We’re supposed to meet for a drink. It’s Thursday and there is some small talk texts leading up to it. I want to keep the embers glowing until we meet. We chat about our days, and what shows we’re watching. I ask her if she is a beer, wine or a cocktail girl. This way I can gauge where we should meet. She says she’s a beer girl. Then she says she doesn’t really like alcohol and then says: “What about you?” I tell her I enjoy an occasional drink socially. (A bold-faced lie) I ask her if she’d rather meet for brunch instead of a drink on Saturday.
She chooses brunch. I ask her if she has any dietary concerns. She says no, but she is a really unhealthy but picky eater, and thanks me for asking and do I have any. I tell her I can eat anything. So I ask her if she has any preferences. She loves seafood and breakfast food. That sounds perfectly fine to me. I thought of several places I could take her, but went with my go to: Square 1682. The staff knows me. The food’s great, and the service is on point. She can have seafood or breakfast food and so can I.
Friday I text her a “Happy Friday” meme around 5pm. I tell her I look forward to meeting her at Square 1682 for brunch Saturday at 2pm.
She replies: “Where is that at?” I wanted to reply: “I keep forgetting that I am the only one on Earth with iPhone technology because I came from the future, and I also don’t end my sentences with prepositions!” Of course I don’t.
But I do say: “Here, let me google that for you.” And send her a screenshot of Square 1682’s webpage from my phone. She thanks me like nothing happened, because to her, technically nothing did. She closes with: “I’m looking forward to meeting you too.” (Redeemed)
So far just texting her, I like this chick. I’m really looking forward to meeting her Saturday. She seems really sweet. I just pray that she isn’t just meeting with me for free food and drinks. I mean, that could happen. It’s happened before. She is a student. But she has youth and beauty, and as I’m finding out about myself, I’m bored with anything else. She fits the criteria. Young. Attractive. Slender. She seems intelligent. Articulate. Good communication skills for the most part. Likes scary movies and thrillers. Getting her education. Works two jobs. What could go wrong?
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