Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Montreal: Respect, Truth, and Adoration

Montreal Girls….

I’m having a crazy time here…
I’m not sure when I will leave…
I’m not finding time to journal as much as I would like…

Here are some emails that I have gotten the day after I met these girls…
The one in French, that I had translated, is particularly amusing…
The connections I have made and these words shared truly make me smile…

************************
HBfountain

Hey sweetie,
That was possibly the nicest night I have ever had. I'm really glad we met and I wish you were staying longer, but you're probably gone now. I guess I didn't really have that much of your time which is too bad because the time I did get was awesome. You made me feel really good. If you are gone then I'm assuming you won't get this until you are home, in which case I hope you had a safe trip home and I hope we can still keep talking...or..."talking,” hehe, through here or however. *kiss*


************************
HBcafe

Hey. You're so beautifully intriguing... I want to show you the city and the museums and take you for sushi on the mountain so that you can unravel and tell stories.

You seem like the spontaneous, fly-by-the-seam-of-your-pants kinda guy. So if you find yourself downtown tomorrow night, bored and in need of company and conversation, give me a call from a payphone and I'll come meet you.


AND

I think we should meet at two so I can take you to the plateau and we'll walk up des pins to the mountain. We can go to Sentropole or Café Chaos or walk to the old port. There's free fireworks at 10 pm from St. Paul Street so if you're not sick of me, we'll adventure down there. It will be fabulous.

YOU'RE fabulous. I don't know. You have this exciting, exhilarating, enthralling energy around you and it's astoundingly refreshing. I want to soak it up...I'll see you soon.


************************

HBmetro

HI! Je voudrais que tu me dise pourquoi tu m'a parlé hier, qu'est-ce que tu recherche au juste? Est-ce que c'était sérieux ou si c'était parce que tu avait du temps à perde? Au faite, est-ce que tu fait ça à chaque fille qui t'attire? (SÛREMENT). Dans le fond tu cherche des filles à baiser durant ton voyage au Canada, pas vrai? J'ai déjà tromper mon chum une fois, donc je serais capable de le faire une deuxième fois, mais est-ce que sa en vaut vraiment la peine ( de le faire avec un gars qui ne se souviendra même pas de ton nom le lendemain matin). D'habitude j'envoi promener les gens bizarre comme toi qui cruise les filles dans le métro, je parle jamais aux étrangers, je ne sais pas pourquoi je ne les pas fait cette fois. Quel est ton nom?

Answer my questions please! It's your turn to have problem, use your dictionary if you think that it's worth it, if not, goodbye! The girl that you talk with last night…

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Montreal D1: FR: Make Out City

First day in Montreal. I get a metro card which is $18 for the week, or what’s left of it. I ask the cashier to circle where we are on the map and circle where the most people would be. It’s about noon. The station that she sent me to turned out to be inside a mall. I didn’t come to Canada to hang in a mall, so I hit the street. St Catherine. I’m actually wandering without a map or any kind of guide. Just going to let the wind blow.

I get all these leads on things to check out from asking women where their favorite places are and what I must see. I’ll glance at postcards in the shops and ask people if they know where the pictured landmarks are.

I ended up doing ten cold approaches in the day (and three more at night). All in the day were single girls except one group of three. All were positive in some way; if only for smiles and laughs and some sense of rapport. My strategy is to stay in a girl’s company for as long as possible and to try to push things into an automatic date or arrange something later that day. Contact closing for a second day meet-up is generally not my style, but also further hindered here because I do not get phone service in Canada. Great opportunity to act on whims and push for same-day action.

My major sticking point right now is somewhat the opposite of what I used to do, that is: eject before rejection. Now, I find myself staying in conversation and the company of a woman even after I’ve realized that the logistics of staying with her or getting together with her later are not going to be possible. But I usually stay there just enjoying the moment shared and the connecting. It’s bad only because I realize that my time would be better spent finding and connecting with someone who might be available for an intimate rendezvous while I am in town.

So I end up spending maybe as much as an hour or so with a woman and then we part usually because she has to go to work or has some other commitment. In parting, I offer my email and don’t ask for any contact information. What has been uncanny though is this amazing return rate when these women will send me intense emails saying how much they enjoyed meeting me. Just leaves me kicking myself, because I’m long gone, in another city and won’t ever get to see her again. Oh well. I tend to press reset on my game daily.

But I must start realizing that if same-day action isn’t going to pan out to just exit the interaction ASAP. Move on to the bigger better deal.

Anyway…the first girl I talked to was outside a major bookstore. Turns out she worked there and was on break. (Opener: “I just got here. What do you recommend, right or left?”) She’s telling me what to see and what to expect of the people. Truly bilingual and her English is really good. Within five minutes of talking to her she says, “Hey do you want to smoke a joint?” Haha, good times. Yeah, right there on the street. She actually knows a bit about the city and the history. She’s telling me that French girls are easy. She offers her number and I say that my phone doesn’t work there and she tells me to use a pay phone. I say, “I dunno, is your company worth a quarter?” We’re flirting and sparring verbally. Funny thing is, though, I actually left without her number and did not even think to give her my email. In retrospect, I could have kissed her too. Instead, I was actually in this silly trance walking away thinking “that was about the coolest first person I could have talked to”….what’s next?

The second interaction was so intense it deserves a post of is own. YES…

The third girl was in a coffee shop. I sat next to her to take a picture of something across the street. Then I started talking about my first Canadian energy drink that I had just gotten—Guru—which sucked. (Hype also sucks.) We’re talking about what to see and do and her favorite places and she’s trying to teach me French. We share laughs and I feel like there is definitely a sexual vibe. I convince her to show me some things and she says she will but she as to first run an errand without me. She won’t tell me what it is, but she does her best to convince me that it will only take five minutes and she will be right back. I say I’ll wait, but I ended up leaving for new opportunities.

The next girl was one of the hottest of the hot. She was wearing bright pink and bright blue and this combined with her tight body got her all the attention she could ever need. Our interaction was brief, but I did walk a few blocks with her. She was going to meet her boyfriend for dinner. Meh… I never had a chance, but at least I went for it.

Next was the three-set in front of a cathedral. I’m pointing out gargoyles to them and explaining their significance and they end up taking pictures with me. They are from an area about an hour and a half away and only one speaks a bit of English. There is really nowhere I could have taken this PU-wise.

Next was a very hot girl in a blue dress. The kind of beauty that I would kick myself for the rest of the day for not approaching. Oh yeah, she was wearing headphones. So I opened by asking what she was listening to. We walked several blocks and we’re laughing and she’s doing her best to ask me rapport questions in English. She agreed to show me the way to Chinatown and I asked her if she liked Chinese food and she’s game, so it looked like we were going to eat. But we got to this particular street where Chinatown was right and she decided to go left to the Metro saying that she had to have dinner with her mom. I told her that we really should do something later this week and I gave her my email.

Then there was the woman from Philly who was there for a conference. In fact she organized the conference and, as such, was very busy. She was walking the streets for fresh air. We walked and talked for probably twelve blocks. She was really into me and was glad to hear of my good experiences in Philly. Anyway, she had to get to her hotel for dinner and it was the same time I had to find a different hotel for my meet with girl #2. Even with her being American, I’m sure I could have kissed her. I could have pursed a meet-up later, but I was certain girl #2 would receive my attention for the rest of the night. Damn.

Right after my escapade and wait at the Hilton, I pass another hotel a couple bocks away and there is a beautiful girl sitting outside. She is on vacation from France with her mother. She actually speak better English that most all the French Canadian girls that I have encountered. She came outside to smoke a cigarette, but couldn’t stray far. I got her to walk across the street with me to a fountain. She let me know that she was only sixteen (haha) and that she has a boyfriend back home. I felt like she was telling me this because she was attracted. I decided to do something bold just to see what would happen. I said, “I want to tell you a secret. Then we’ll go our separate ways. This is a juicy vacation secret for you to keep from your mother for the rest of the trip and something to keep from your boyfriend for as long as you stay together. Close your eyes.” And I pulled her close kissed her. It was returned and a good kiss except for the fact that she tasted like cigarettes. Then I wished her well and walked away, not even looking back. Good times.

So I just kissed a sixteen year old French girl. I decide to continue with the bold moves for whatever may happen. The Metro trains stop running at midnight. So I decided to take the train to my van and drive downtown for night action. On the metro back up, I’m face-to-face with this beautiful Brazilian girl. She is nineteen and here studying and she lives with some old lady and a Japanese teenage dude. I’m trying to figure out a way that we could stay together and cook or go somewhere. Her station is before mine. When we reach her station we kiss. And I think it is funny because it started as a misread on my part, but definitely something she was ready for. I think she went in to do the Frenchie cheek air kiss thing and when I saw this I went in to kiss-kiss her. But she adjusted and next thing you know we are really French kissing. And that was it, she’s gone.

When I got off the Subway I ended up pacing this French-Canadian blonde. I just told her this was my first day here and some stories. Just walking and talking and smiling. We get to some factory and she says, “This is where I work. Bye.” This was abrupt to me because the bonding was going well and I didn’t even think about where we were going. She works 10PM until 6AM. Uhg. I tell her that I would like to continue getting to know her and she says that she has a BF and I say that that’s OK, just write me anyway and I give her my email and let her go work.

I’m back at the van and I’m thinking how far this drive is going to be to get back downtown. I decide to get back on the subway and *make something happen* such that I had a place to sleep OR *worst case scenario* the bars would close at 3 and I would wait to catch the first train back around 6AM. Okay, let’s roll.

Back in the Metro, I engage this really cute girl by asking her to translate a subway poster for me. Well, she is from Mexico City and knows no French. She lives in Montreal and is with her BF and her friend who just arrived from Mexico. Somehow I transition nicely to talking to the visiting girl, whom, if she has a BF, at least is not there with him. She is damn cute too. We sit together on the Metro and I flirt in broken Spanish. She tells me how long she will be there and offers her number. I tell her that my phone does not work and she should take my email and email me plans for an adventure. Really weak game, but like I said, it is hard for me to structure dates in cities that I am unfamiliar with and I like to reset my game every day.

So I get back to St Catherine. Not too much going on. I first open a two set that is rushing to get home. Poor English. I engage them for a few minutes anyway which is counterproductive because it is only wasting my time.

Next I sit down between two girls in this group of three. They are fairly apprehensive at first. But they are open to my stories and impressions of Montreal. Of course the scene evolves into teaching me French and I play along to let them laugh at my inability to pronounce or retain anything French. I’m talking about them being my teacher, my tour guide, and my success coach and how we’re going to start our own province. Blah blah blah.

They decide to take me to a bar uptown. These are college girls. We catch a bus. With the most alpha tour-guide girl I’m being cocky and playful while teasing her about Canadian and American differences. My teacher girl I develop the most rapport with and I’m asking her all these words in French. And I have her writing stuff down for me. The third girl is pretty shy and quiet but the only one asking direct questions about me.

But honestly, none of them are showing more than casual interest. Another instance of me just rolling with the situation and not really leading. We get to the bar and there’s a guy friend that joins us. The four of them are talking French and I have no idea what they are saying. I talk to my teacher girl a bit, but the others are talking like 90% French now and I am excluded. I’m not sure what has been communicated or what influence this guy had, but my even my questions are ignored. So I decide to excuse myself and I ask for directions back to downtown. But before I left, I slipped me email into the purse of my favorite girl—the teacher. Also gave her a hug when I left and just said bye to the rest.

Then I walked probably seven miles or so back to the city center. By that time it was about 4AM. Had to kill nearly 2 hours waiting for the metro to open. The horrible part is that I had to keep moving because the mosquitoes would get me whenever I stopped. Mosquitoes are hellacious here, even in the city.

Monday, July 11, 2005

NY: I Don't Front with Police

7/11. 12:30AM Rome, NY

I don’t think it is really a big deal. I was not arrested or accused. But this interaction made me uneasy and I just wondered if…

A cop has a right to put his hands in your pockets and remove contents without even asking your consent….

A cop has the right to turn on your computer without even asking your consent….

Anyway, I park on a busy street in a business district. I grab my laptop and power cord and I’m looking at the storefronts for an outlet. Just wanted to charge the battery and type some shit up.

Maybe I am an *electricity thief* but that was never even the issue.

I found an outlet, but before I even plugged in, I see the cops drive past and turn around in the middle of the road. So I just wait for them to approach. Two cops jump out of the car and start asking me my name and where I live and what I am doing. They ask for ID and I have it on me. I hand my license to one and the other tells me to put my hands on the hood of the car.

I’m being really cooperative because I know I have done nothing and I don’t want to get caught up in a scene.

I tell them that I auto-camp and I’m there to see Fort Stanwix the next day. Told them I was just going to sit for an hour and do computer work.

The cop asks if it is my laptop. I say yes. Then he turns it on. Asks me what my screensaver looks like.

Then he reaches into all my pockets and takes out my phone and my wallet. Ask if it is my phone. Asks if I have ever been arrested.

Meanwhile, the other cop runs my license and the tag on the van. Clean, of course. I just stand there, feeling pretty undignified, waiting for them to tell me what’s going on.

Finally, they tell me that there are a lot of burglaries in the area and I should hang out somewhere else. I’m on my way. That’s it.

Oh yeah. Yesterday, I got pulled over by NY police. I had a headlight out. Ran my license. The cop told me that since I hadn’t been drinking, he wouldn’t give me a ticket. Just to get it fixed.

2 days and 2 cop stories. Blah.

Friday, July 08, 2005

LR: Pennsylvania: Banging a Babe in Bethlehem

As much as I liked Philadelphia, I still left with three parking tickets and a dry dick.

Keys to Lay:
--assuming attraction
--being open, social, and talkative
--having interesting real life stories
--spontaneous conversation with situational relevance
--being confident and playful
--assuming the sale, escalating
--walking away and trusting her to come back

Personal Significance:
--one of the most effortless lays yet
--had her hot and ready in under one hour
--another van lay; very good sex too
--lots of talk about my roadtrip and passionate travel
--special email twist-ending!
--serendipity, baby!


Thursday 7/7. I left Philly around three and traffic was already horrible. I was hoping to make it to Hopewell Furnace by five. No luck. Napped somewhere. I kept on to Allentown. It’s like 9ish and I see some kind of gathering in a park. Turns out to be some organized ongoing high school basketball tournament. Did what we call “warm up” approaches on the teenage girls here. Don’t tell mommy.

When I don’t get to socialize in the day, I’m like starved for nightlife. Especially when I know that if I had stayed in Philly, the city would be rockin’ on a Thursday. But the great white north is calling….

Kept driving and checked out these two clubs in Allentown that actually looked quite hip. Like they just look like amazing clubs—lots of lights and lounge areas, cool bars and DJ booths. But no people. I was the only non-employee to even walk into the second place. So they tell me that it will pick up by 10:30. OK. I schlepped around the area from 10-10:30. Dead. Back on the road to Bethlehem.

It was the only place I passed with anybody anywhere. Some Irish pub. Maybe six people milling around the outside. I wasn’t even going to stop—but one of the guys hanging outside was wearing a shirt from my alma mater. So I stopped to chat with some dude from my school. Probably 20 people inside.

This guy was drunk. And he didn’t really find it as interesting as I did that there were two Georgians in Pennsylvania at the same. So I spent most of the night sharing stories with this group of two girls and two guys. I knew it was not going to go anywhere PU-wise, but it was fun to just share laughs with hot girls over a couple drinks. This group left and I lingered for a few minutes to glance through the local weekly.

I grab the paper and walk outside to leave and I see HER. Gorgeous brunette. Her body wasn’t the tightest, but I am forgiving when there is a face this expressive and adorable. She’s just arrived with a girl and a guy. I found out later that they all drove separately to meet there. So I’m face to face with this girl in passing.

“Man, I just found out that a band I like is playing in your city tomorrow. It sucks that I can’t stay an extra night.” So I engaged her just like that. She asks what band and I tell her and ask her if she has heard of them and she says yes, but she is not going to the show. She asks where I am from, I tell her Georgia and I run through a “stack” of stories.

I think it is funny that I have “material” now that is simply stories of my adventures over the past few days. I think it’s only useful as long as I can convey that it is fresh and exciting. We’re outside and noise isn’t a factor. Her friends had ordered drinks and were sitting at a table outside, behind us. It’s amusing that she never sat down and never joined her friends, nor invited me into the group. Similarly, I never even acknowledged the two people she arrived with or asked her how she knew them or anything. Generally not good game, but it was not necessary as I had her undivided attention as she found my company captivating. It was 1AM and we both were sober, standing outside the bar just chatting. “I’m on this intense roadtrip. I just spent a week in Philly, man I’m in love with Philadelphia…”

My “stack” was something like this: Impressions of Philly, Live 8, Philly Steak Story 1, Steak Story 2 (Don’t Eat a Misteak), Philly vs DC, Ocean City Teen Tease, Atlantic City Working Girl, Teaching Russian Girls, Lighthouse Tour, LBI Himbos, Hanging at the Wawa….

Anyway, all these stories I have published here for whatever they are worth. Some themes I believe they convey…openness, connectedness, luck/timing, spontaneousness, flirtatiousness and judgment, desirability, flirtatiousness and MIS-judgment, not letting opportunities pass by, flirtatiousness and being genuine/not try-hard, humor, interest in history and culture, living in the moment, making your own fun, etc, etc, etc… Heavy are themes of being playful and spontaneous for the sake of challenging your creativity and living your life to the fullest.

Understand that I have calibrated that she is not much of a talker. But she is very much into my stories. Nodding and smiling and encouraging me to continue. This is a contrast from all the girls that it seems like I have met lately that want to talk and talk and ask me a million questions. So I just roll with the stories. I also tell her this: “I know you’re wearing the slightest bit of makeup, but in this blue neon light it really stands out. Gorgeous. I know I’m talking a lot, but I have to keep talking or else I’m just going to be thinking about how beautiful you are.” She laughs and says, “no, no, go on, please…”


So I’m talking about the Wawa--which is this chain of food stores and sometimes gas stations that is popular in VA, NJ, and PA. When I first started seeing them in VA I was like, what is this Wawawawawa shit? Like hello, welcome to Wawa? Sounds like baby gargle. I intentionally told myself I wasn’t going to go to a place with a name like that. Then I ended up at one in NJ because I had no choice. I was hungry. But I decided it was pretty cool after all because of their hi-tech digital sub ordering system. Like, there will be no one else in line, and you’re right in front of the person who will be making the sub, but you still have to type in your order. With the little on-screen digital beep-beep thingy. You probably say hoagie, huh? But the subs are pretty good and now I’m hooked. I’m writing a song called “Hanging at the Wawa.” It’s going to be huge. So you guys got one in town right? Take me to your Wawa…

So this drunk guy comes out of the bar and pukes… really close to us. Nasty. I pull her to me and around the side of the bar and we’re standing in a sprinkle of rain. This guy starts talking to us. We’re eying each other like, how do we get him out of here, politely. But drunk dude says we look good together. OK. I said, “We sure do, don’t we” and I grab her and pull her close. I ask; “Who has a camera?” And she has one in her purse! She asks her friend to take our picture. The drunk guy is in the first one. Then I say, “How about one of just us” and I kiss her cheek and the drunk guy leaves.

After the picture, I take her hand and walk her back to the side of the bar where we had moved to in the rain. It’s the lightest sprinkle you can imagine. But here she is out of sight from her friends. I want to talk privately and I don’t know if they will cockblock. A risky move, as they might be more defensive if I pull her out of sight. So I position us so that they can still see her right side, but they cannot see me at all.

I tell her that my parents used to mail their Christmas cards to Bethlehem PA to be re-mailed with the city’s special postmark. My parents didn’t really do this, but I know that it is a service that her city offers to folks so they can get a special pictorial cancellation. She had never heard of it. I asked her if there is like a Christmas tree or a year-round Nativity scene or some big star. Se says there is a star up on the mountain and I say that she has to take me there and she says OK.

I say, “It’s so easy to talk to you. Such comfort. You seem so genuine and real. Some girls I meet…” and I look into the distance like the thought is too intense to finish. I look back at her, do the triangular gazing, put my hand behind her head and kiss her. I hold her close and we kiss a couple more times with increasing tension.

It’s 1:45. The bar closes at 2 and her friends will be leaving. Do I attempt some kind of fifteen minute drag-and-fuck, or do I get her to ratify her feelings and trust her to meet up? Let’s face it; the former would be the quickest way to a red light. This is how I structured the latter (probably more wordy, as I tend to be):

“Listen…I know, that you, like me, are adventurous and spontaneous…(nods)…we are the kind of people that if we find something, a person, an opportunity, that captures our attention and stirs our souls, we want to seize that opportunity and make it our own…(nods)…it’s like, even if our time together is limited, we still know that it’s the kind of intense and amazing experience that we’ll always remember and cherish…(nods)…I’m going to go to my van and sort the pictures that I was telling you about, and you’re going to go spend some time with your friends. Make them smile and make sure they have a way home. Then come see me…I’ll be right here…we’ll go look for the star or have some other incredible adventure.”

“OK” she says. I’m smiling the whole time and looking deep into her eyes. I kiss her again. Then walk off. Not another word and I don’t look back. No contact info, no Plan B. Either she shows or she doesn’t. And I don’t sit there waiting. I’m sorting pictures like I said.

About 2:15 there’s the softest little knock on the window. I open the door and she’s all smiles and I playfully pull her in. We tickle each other and give each other massages and things get explicit quickly. I give a couple, “This is so intense. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me” kind of statements early on just to counteract possible LMR. But there really wasn’t any. Straight porno (you know which one) after that. Pretty intense. Right there in the parking lot of this bar in Bethlehem.

When we parted I gave her my email. For shits and giggles, I’ve included the email she sent the next day:

“You are a free spirit and have a beautiful soul, with an open heart. I would love to just travel with you and go wherever the wind blows us. I have obligations and yes……..a husband. I’m going to attempt to work things out with him. But things very possibly won’t heal. And if they don’t, you’ll be the first I call. If you are ever in Pennsylvania again, look me up. It’d be cool and maybe we are destined to see each other again. Thanks for an amazing night. You’ll be on my mind.”

A husband! That certainly was and unexpected suprise from this 24 year old hottie. Perhaps explains why she kept quiet.

Monday, July 04, 2005

FR: Philly D4: New Friends and Fireworks

7/4. Spent most of the holiday journaling the events from the past few days.

Finally parked and walked and made it to Fairmont Park where another free concert was being held. The Philadelphia Freedom Concert: Elton John plus Pattie Labelle plus Bryan Adams. Plus fireworks. Met two community guys that had emailed me and we talked for awhile. One wanted to drink at a bar and skip the concert altogether. I walked with them and talked on the way to the bar. I had not brought my ID and personally I wanted to see fireworks. It’s a big holiday! I told them that I could hang out in a bar any day and I wanted to enjoy the concert and the celebration and perhaps we could get together the next day. OK.

Kept playing phone tag with the teacher from yesterday. By the time her classes ended, the traffic would not permit her to get downtown. (She later told me that she watched the fireworks through a chain-link fence outside the school. Yes, Temple is this nice college smack dab in the middle of the ghetto.)

I fought the crowd back to the two girls that I had previously joined. Opener: “Thanks for saving me a spot. Man I love Philly. This is so cool. Do they do a big free show every year?” And we’re off. They love my road stories.

Common problem: They are both attracted. I’m joking around with both. Touching both. Asking questions of both, and telling my stories to them both. The less attractive girl is slightly more receptive and responsive. They are art and graphic design students at Philadelphia University (where they met one year earlier) although one lives in upstate PA and the other in Long Island, NY. They are both twenty years old.

One is two solid points higher on an attractiveness scale. Wavy blond hair, like tons of it. Very expressive eyes, and a ring through her bottom lip. I’m pretty sure I have never kissed a girl with such a piercing. So I have a really cute 8 and a chubby-but-definitely-not-ugly 6. (Of course, I’d do them both if there is threesome potential—still thinking about Annapolis ;).

Anyway, the rapport had been established before I walked away with the guys. Elton John was playing as I worked back to them. They don’t seem overly happy to see me again. Indicators of interest are weak to say the least.

No need to talk while the show is underway. I’m exclusively kinesthetic with the cute girl now. And increasingly intimate. Little touches on her arms, leading to pretty solid head, neck and shoulder massages. She’s really liking it—the holiday atmosphere, the music, the massage. What could be better for her?

I’m smelling her and brushing my face against her hair. She smells really good. We’re both kinda in this trance where the rest of the world has disappeared. And we kiss. Like it was a really slow and intimate barely-mouth-open kinda kiss. The kind where you don’t even realize its going to happen until you are already in it. She has the fullest lips and I could distinctly feel the lip ring. Mmmm…

So then I look at her friend and she is standing with her arms crossed and she looks miffed. Just as I suspected. I break touch with the hot girl and talk to her friend for a bit. I put my hand on her back and she recoiled.

I was thinking of saying something like, “Your friend and I really like each other. You are okay with that, right? We want you to arrange our honeymoon and we’ll name our first born daughter after you.” I just wanted to say something to get her to lighten up and be okay. After some more talking, I did tickle her a bit and I got her to thumb wrestle. I think she was alright with things. One of those instances where the fun guy always goes for her friend and not her.

And my girl was not really aggressive or forthright or pursuant of me either. Probably out of the same respectful observation of her friend. Don’t rub it in, you know?

But I thought about the logistics…the fact that they had to catch a train tonight and how we lived so far away and how just sharing this moment together was really nice whether there was ever to be another kiss or not.

So we all sat down to watch the fireworks. Spectacular. I’m holding hands with them both. My girl is leaning on me and I am leaning on the other girl. We look and feel pretty comfortable together.

Once the show is over, I hug them both and I sincerely thank them for sharing the night with me. I give them my email and we walk separate ways.

So I didn’t get to make fireworks on Independence Day, but I at least got to enjoy some in the company of a beautiful woman and her cool friend.

What makes this a greater loss that it seemed at the time is the apparent impact I had on my girl, as evident by the email she sent five days later:

Hey there, *Deep Breath (sigh)*.... I'm not exactly sure how to go about this so please don't mind me if I start to ramble or not make sense. I'm not sure even if you remember me but you seemed so fond of the story telling I figured I'd try to refresh your memory with a short story of mine as well....

On Independence Day I woke up at the 'butt crack' of dawn to get ready for a long day of glamorous fun in the sun and in the great city of Philadelphia. I drove from good ol' Jackson Center, PA to Long Island, NY to spend a week with my best friend. We planned on taking a day trip to Philly (where we originally met during our academic year at the university). Elton John and Bryan Adams were playing at the Art Museum, so we dressed to impress in our white "duds", bought a beach mat, and found a spot to take in the days festivities.

As our afternoon and evening progressed a pleasant suprise plopped right down on our mat.You see, this random guy sat down with us and began to strike up random conversation as if he had actually known us. This was really great and truth be told I found this to be very alluring, and he to be very attractive.... but not in the stereotypical sense. No not at all, because this fellow dressed in a khaki Orlando ball cap and a dusty blue Cape May tee and carried carefully a beautiful camera. Yeah, he was the traveler type all right but the short stories he told and the jokes he made really captured the attention of my friend and I. (even though somehow he did manage to mess up a reference to the great movie, Office Space.... but I suppose I being younger and less wise can find a way to forgive him... lol)

Anyways, long story short we parted ways and he continued on his travels as us two girls found our way back on the road for the two hour ride back to Long Island where we talked the whole car ride of 'what if's and 'did you notice's... All we really had left of him is a photo on the yet to be developed disposable camera and an email address written on the back of a gas receipt.

So, that leaves me here.... I let curiousity get the best of me and I'm writing that email address which I'm hoping and assuming belongs to that wonderful young traveler. I just wanted to say it was nice meeting you and I hope to talk to you again someday!

Sunday, July 03, 2005

FR: Philly D3: Don't Eat a Misteak

7/3. Today I set off (with a smile) to visit some tourist attractions. Of course I’m on foot and the miles are adding up and taking their toll. I’ve decided to come back to Philly on another trip when there are not so many tourists and I can explore these places in depth. So my wanderings today are half-hearted to say the least.

The super cute Kazakhstan girl calls me and I tell her a place to meet. This is her last day in Philly. I arrive late and I figure she has already left. Oops. So I leave. Half an hour later I get a message that she had gotten lost, but she is there at Penn’s Landing waiting. Turns out she had borrowed a cell phone from a stranger each time to call me. There’s an indicator of interest for you! So I go back, consuming another half an hour, and of course she isn’t there. So sad, man was I into this girl. And she was dedicated enough to hang with me on her last day in Philly to borrow phones and call me twice. Damn.

But I’m back at Penn’s Landing and there’s a cute curly haired chick writing something on a pad. She’s sitting on the edge of the river. I’m looking right at her paper, and I say, “My curiosity’s got the best of me…again.” Then I look up at her and out toward the river and say, “Is that Ride the Duck the actual vehicle I saw driving on the street? I had not idea they were actual boats!” Haha, misdirection. Anyway, Ride the Duck is a tour franchise that shows you the attractions on the streets, as a tour bus, and then they drive you into the water and tour the harbor, as a boat. They’re in many ay cities. And fucking annoying because they give all the tourists these duck-call noise makers and the guides will provoke everyone to make noise at certain people that they pass. So I segue into a story about getting quacked when I was streetside in Baltimore.

So this girl is engaged and I tell her my impressions of Philly threads and the cheese-steak story from Day 1 and we talk about Live 8. We end up conversing for maybe three hours. She’s a teacher in training with Teach America and is in Philly for five weeks. Then she’s moving to the Bronx to teach math. Her schedule is intense—they have to get up at five and sometimes are in class until 10PM. She’s been sitting there working on lesson plans. Lively girl. She’s half Mexican and half Greek. Lived in California and Texas. We share travel stories. She’s really into my trip, asking all the lifestyle-style questions. We have a good laugh when we find out that we both drive mini-vans.

I also tell her that I had been looking for this nearby sculpture garden and I entice her to head off and we find it together. Then we go for a drive in her van (Blue Wave) while I navigate and we breeze through downtown and Chinatown.

Finally, she suggests that we find South Philly and get a cheese-steak. She’s never had one before in her life! So we ask directions and get to the area. There they are: Pat’s (The King of Steaks) and Geno’s (The Best Steaks). Geno’s is blaring orange and green neon and a big light-up sandwich. Pat’s is a little more modest, with two huge signs. Before we walk up, we do an impromptu survey on three people who all say “go to Pat’s.” She gets the sandwich and ruins it with mustard. Meh. But the funniest part was whe we venture to the far side of Pat’s and discover their slogan: Don’t Eat a Misteak. Classic.

We’re holding hands and laughing. So she drives me to my wheel estate on South Street and I get her to come inside and look at some photos. I’m sitting on wifi, so I send her an email right there with a fun note and my phone number. Didn’t push anything physically because I know she has a 5AM responsibility and she still has homework. We talk about meeting again for the fireworks the next night. Solid.

Saturday, July 02, 2005

FR: Philly D2: Live 8 and Soviet 4

7/2. I walked for an hour from Front Street uptown to the park where the concert was being held. Live 8 was a sea of like a million and a half people. Literally. It took at hour to work my way up to the second screen, with the actual stage still out of sight. I pulled back and worked the perimeter. Each band played only 3 songs. But it was certainly an experience. It was funny when they would throw the live feed from the other locations up on the screens, and since most the crow couldn’t see a stage anyway, people thought they were watching artist performing there in Philly. Madonna is here? U2 is here? Funny because there was really no difference.

Opener for you guys that think they matter: “What is going on here? Why are all these people here? I just got to Philly and I wanted to go to the art museum and I run into THIS! Must be a really big art opening or something….” When they were like “are you serious?” I’d give them a little punch and roll my eyes for their gullibility and go into real impressions of Philly.I spent most my time with this witty and feisty girl who had traveled a bit and we had a lot to talk about. Didn’t really get too far in the PU sense, but it was fun. Actually venue changed from this concert to a grocery store to get drinks. Had a few more positive interactions. The show (and the walking) was quite tiring. My legs are so sore.

The street PU on the way back was more likely to pan out than anything at the show. I’ve got four girls from Sweden rolling with me at one point. Then four girls from former soviet countries. Opener: “You girls look like fun. Did you see this mural over here? No? You have to see this!” I noticed they had cameras and I led them a couple blocks to this mural. One girl was really against me because she was tired and they were leaving for NYC the next day. One girl was neutral and kinda paced to crabby girl. The other two were by far the hottest and I had them both engaged. The girl from Kazakhstan was gorgeous and very much into me. I complimented her on her curiosity and her desire to learn. She lit up. She had like the most subtle Asian features—so so cute. I walked them to their hostel and this girl is asking a million questions. The plan was (and OK’ed with the crabby girl) that I would walk them back, and the two fun, not-tired girls would roll with me to the club district. Both were 21. I gave my girl my contact info. They went up and I waited about 10 minutes. Logistics were bad anyway, so I left.

I hit South Street, which I thought was really cool on Friday, and tonight it was a straight-up ghetto. I kinda like that there are so many cops for crowd control and basically keeping people from loitering. I called it a night.

It would definitely be nice to have more time and more money to spend in Philly. I’d check out the Mutter Museum and the Mummer Museum and the Mushroom Museum. (No shit, look them up.) And somewhere I passed the Museum of Underground Art. Looked intriguing. These are the kinds of places I would visit with someone that I really got along with because we’d have a great time laughing and pointing out the absurdity of it all.

Email from my soviet girl:

Hello, I want to say that I admire your life philosophy and your aspiration to learn more about the world outside and inside you. You probably don't remember me, we met in Philadelphia last weekend. I have decided to write you and I am really glad that talking to me was so important for you, I must say that you did a great job. I would love you to reply me and we could become friends and share our experiences, because you are someone I really want to know. I would be really glad to hear from you.

FR: Philly D1: Brotherly & Sisterly Love

7/1. What a night. Fuck me if three girls did not just buy me drinks tonight. Asking for my phone number. And this other girl bought me an authentic Philly Cheesesteak from Jim’s and the logo shirt to match. And then that other girl wanted to buy me pizza and I turned it down because I just ate this badass cheesesteak! And everyone I talked to was so warm and receptive. Like really uncharacteristically nice. We’ve got southern hospitality and you’ve got brotherly love. I think we’re on the same wavelength here. I dig it.

You know what’s cool? When you roll into a state that you’ve never been to before and you have to cross a long-ass bridge over the tremendous Delaware River to get there. And you know you’re there because you just crossed the bridge and the river defines the state boundaries. And you’re in a new city. And that city is Philadelphia. That’s cool.

I really appreciate simple things. Like a long stretch of road with no traffic. Or rainstorms that stop right when you arrive at your destination. Or having to make an impromptu turn driving without checking a map and it turns out to be exactly where you needed to go. Or just parking and finding that you’re on a wireless network without having to drive around to find one. Or finding out there is like some huge free concert in a city that you’re going to right at the time you are going to be there.

Man, I got here right after the storm and I took this route and ended up at Penn’s Landing park. Got out to glance at the river and fuck me if there was not one hot chick sitting on a bench reading something. I say, “What are you studying?” and we end up spending four hours together talking and bonding and sharing stories and joking around.

Another Russian girl. 4th day in the city too, but this one has actually seen a bit of the US and she knows about places she hasn’t seen. She’s got a greater grasp of English and her sense of humor is kicking. She’s witty and smart and her callback ability is amazing. I’m telling her about the lighthouses and Lucy the elephant in NJ and she wants to see pictures. Yeah I can do that. So I get my computer. And I play this Russian pop music that I got from my girl in Atlantic City. And I remembered one damn word in Russian, but it was an uncommon one and she liked. Dushevnost.

Lots of caution and hesitation, but damn if I did not get her to sit in the van and look at pictures. She getting more comfortable with my touch but refused my kiss attempts. It’s really cute actually. I just stay confident and playful and curious and open to sharing. Finally her roommate shows up and they have to move something. The story is sketchy at best. And her (female) roommate drives an ice cream truck (no shit!). No phone, no car, and she’s off. I really did all I could do with escalating and building comfort. But in the end, I’m left thinking—that was pretty cool, I just showed up and she was there and we had a good time and shared laughter and stories.

Its like 10:30 and I move and I’m actually right beside a club district and I parallel park flawlessly. Little things. I check the nearest club and it’s a $10 cover. Ouch. I joke with the doorman for a minute when I reach for my ID and a condom falls out of my pocket. “You’re hopeful, huh?” Dude, you have no idea...

I’m going to head down the street and here come two girls walking toward me. I toss up my arms and say, “I just got here, I need to know where to go…for free.” I tell them about how good it feels to be in Philly. They tell me that I have to get a cheesesteak. Yes…I do! I hadn’t thought of it yet. They are trying to tell me how to get to this nightlife district called South Street. Long story short, I suggest they forgo whatever their plans were in that area, and just come with me to South Street. Fun times. Like I said, they insisted on not only buying me the sandwich, but also the T-shirt.

Lots of positive connections through the rest of the night. You know what I realized? I meet teachers, artists, and people in advertising and marketing disproportionately. These are my people.

Oh yeah, and I got damn close to scoring with this somewhat drunk lonewolf I met on the street. This girl was so fucking cute. Completely my type—tones brunette with beautiful features. Walking toward her home, I strike up a convo about the city, the vibe, the concert. She unlocks her gate and I position myself in front of it. We’re talking there for probably an hour. I’m pulling out all the stops and I show her the Cube and these kinesthetic visualization synthesis exercises. We talk about interpersonal philosophy. We kiss and kiss passionately. She pressing her body onto mine. I ask if I can have a drink of water. Trying to just get inside. Water and I’ll go. She’s subtle about letting me know, but it turns out she lives with her boyfriend and I’m making out with her right outside the room he is sleeping in. She kept saying this is bad, this is bad. It’s OK. Oh yeah, I tell her that either we can have an intense and passionate love affair behind his back giving her juicy secrets and memories to cherish forever or obviously he is not doing his job and she should pack her bag and come with me and we’ll drive to California just to touch the Hollywood sign.

Philly Day 2 (7/2)

I walked for an hour from Front Street uptown to the park where the concert was being held. Live 8 was a sea of like a million and a half people. Literally. It took at hour to work my way up to the second screen, with the actual stage still out of sight. I pulled back and worked the perimeter. Each band played only 3 songs. But it was certainly an experience. It was funny when they would throw the live feed from the other locations up on the screens, and since most the crow couldn’t see a stage anyway, people thought they were watching artist performing there in Philly. Madonna is here? U2 is here? Funny because there was really no difference. Opener for you guys that think they matter: “What is going on here? Why are all these people here? I just got to Philly and I wanted to go to the art museum and I run into THIS! Must be a really big art opening or something….” When they were like “are you serious?” I’d give them a little punch and roll my eyes for their gullibility and go into real impressions of Philly.

I spent most my time with this witty and feisty girl who had traveled a bit and we had a lot to talk about. Didn’t really get too far in the PU sense, but it was fun. Actually venue changed from this concert to a grocery store to get drinks. Had a few more positive interactions. The show (and the walking) was quite tiring. My legs are so sore.

The street PU on the way back was more likely to pan out than anything at the show. I’ve got four girls from Sweden rolling with me at one point. Then four girls from former soviet countries. Opener: “You girls look like fun. Did you see this mural over here? No? You have to see this!” I noticed they had cameras and I led them a couple blocks to this mural. One girl was really against me because she was tired and they were leaving for NYC the next day. One girl was neutral and kinda paced to crabby girl. The other two were by far the hottest and I had them both engaged. The girl from Kazakhstan was gorgeous and very much into me. I complimented her on her curiosity and her desire to learn. She lit up. She had like the most subtle Asian features—so so cute. I walked them to their hostel and this girl is asking a million questions. The plan was (and OK’ed with the crabby girl) that I would walk them back, and the two fun, not-tired girls would roll with me to the club district. Both were 21. I gave my girl my contact info. They went up and I waited about 10 minutes. Logistics were bad anyway, so I left. I hit South Street, which I thought was really cool on Friday, and tonight it was a straight-up ghetto. I kinda like that there are so many cops for crowd control and basically keeping people from loitering. I called it a night.

Day 3 gets even better. Day 4 is, well, today. It would definitely be nice to have more time and more money to spend in Philly. I’d check out the Mutter Museum and the Mummer Museum and the Mushroom Museum. (No shit, look them up.) And somewhere I passed the Museum of Underground Art. Looked intriguing. I was telling the girl I was with yesterday that these are the kinds of places I would visit with someone that I really got along with because we’d have a great time laughing and pointing out the absurdity of it all.