Art, Pancakes, Tits
Saturday Rosemary and I met with evelynne for an afternoon at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Another new adventure on SEPTA, where Rosemary, at 29, rode the trolley for the first time.
We waited for evelynne at the bottom of the front steps. It would be interesting to stand there for five minutes, and see how many times you see someone running up the stairs like Rocky. I know I saw it at least some 15 times in 10 minutes. We also saw a congregation of suburban-looking white teen boys(TM) -- the kind I went to higih school with -- filming something involving one of them dressed in a mascot-ish fur suit.
This Art Museum trip was a search-and-destroy mission: "Fashion's Favorites: From Rococo to Romantic," the latest small exhibit from the museum's costume and textiles collection; and Grace Kelly's wedding dress on display from when she married Prince Ranier of Monaco. We hit up Princess Grace's dress first - a wonderful, stately and feminine, utterly classy affair. It was neat to see it, along with the flower girl and bridesmaid dresses, maid of honor's hat, and her bride's bible.
The ladies left me in charge of the map, so I took us to "Fashion's Favorites." A small collection, but some interesting stuff of stomachers and corsets. They even had a corset for little kids! The dresses were nice, along with the hats, accessories, and a thing called a reticule -- a knit little bag resembling a ballon, with ornate little designs and jewels on it.
We looked at a bunch of art on the way, and also saw an exhibit on Himalayan protector demons, and we couldn't leave without evelynne seeing "The Moorish Chief" by Eduard Charlemont.
Altogether we were there about two hours. A record art museum time if there ever was one. My new approach to art museums is to take in a couple of things and leave the rest. Go back some other time, and catch some other things. Installments are good, if you can afford to do it. If I'm at the Louvre, for example, I'll be there all damn day.
Afterward we went to Silk City for my final meal there. Silk City is among the places I associate with the Philadelphia I knew before going away to college in 1998. Ever since that time, my Philadelphia has been changing and disappearing: Upstairs at Nick's, Trocadero, Pontiac Grille, the neighborhood comic book store, restaurants, condos everywhere ... and now Silk City.
My last meal was the afternoon special: cornmeal pancakes with peaches and Silk City's famous whipped cream. Our waitress was spunky, punchy and tough-cute: perfect. The pancakes were awesome, and I had a tasty Yuengling with it. Unfortunately, I was too full for bread pudding! But Rosemary is going back tonight, and will pick some up for me and freeze it until I come back in a couple of weeks to eat it.
Now, how else do you wrap up such a wonderful day of culture and fine dining? With titties, of course. We walked down Spring Garden, arm in arm, to Delilah's for some entertainment. It was late-afternoon Saturday, so no cover and the room was a bit empty, but it was a good time. Saw a few really good dancers, and we all had a ball. There was an Indian woman giving massages, and I bought some for Rosemary and myself. She looked so good giving them, and receiving one was even better.
The other funny thing is that while I had a great time with the girls and bought my share of lapdances and everything, the dancers were quite taken with Rosemary. They kept asking her if she wanted a lapdance, and were disappointed -- I mean, seemed actually disappointed -- when she turned them down.
One girl, Priscilla -- a tall, curvy, leggy Brazilian-looking girl with flowing black hair and killer moves (babyraven, think of a brown-skinned Wonder Woman) -- kept asking me if Rosemary wanted a lapdance. And she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"She likes looking, but that's it," I say.
"So she's not even bi-curious?" Priscilla asks.
"Nope!" And she really looked disappointed.
"Has she ever had a woman?"
"Nope!"
"And she's really not interested?"
"Nope."
"Dang!"
evelynne left early, and we hung around for the showcase and some of the night crew. It was a good group of dancers, and Rosemary and I were really impressed with the black and Latin girls. We're not all that into the generic blonde girls, unless they're really good -- and there were a few. But the large collection of black and Latin girls that night were absolutely dynamite. I wouldn't mind seeing a bunch of them again.
We took the El home, and went to sleep.
Sunday I helped Rosemary hit the supermarket with her new wheeled shopping cart. It's nice, but it's small; my parents had one twice its size. She did a ton of shopping, and she had to carry a few bags while I lugged the cart, but we got everything home. Some fashion show time, and then I then made some pasta with ground turkey, roasted peppers, olive oil and garlic, and Rosemary got the Trader Joe's breaded eggplant out. A very yummy dinner.
By that time I had to get leaving. Rosemary hugged and kissed me, and I stepped onto the SEPTA bus on my way to the Greyhound terminal. At they showed "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on the way back to Bristol.
We waited for evelynne at the bottom of the front steps. It would be interesting to stand there for five minutes, and see how many times you see someone running up the stairs like Rocky. I know I saw it at least some 15 times in 10 minutes. We also saw a congregation of suburban-looking white teen boys(TM) -- the kind I went to higih school with -- filming something involving one of them dressed in a mascot-ish fur suit.
This Art Museum trip was a search-and-destroy mission: "Fashion's Favorites: From Rococo to Romantic," the latest small exhibit from the museum's costume and textiles collection; and Grace Kelly's wedding dress on display from when she married Prince Ranier of Monaco. We hit up Princess Grace's dress first - a wonderful, stately and feminine, utterly classy affair. It was neat to see it, along with the flower girl and bridesmaid dresses, maid of honor's hat, and her bride's bible.
The ladies left me in charge of the map, so I took us to "Fashion's Favorites." A small collection, but some interesting stuff of stomachers and corsets. They even had a corset for little kids! The dresses were nice, along with the hats, accessories, and a thing called a reticule -- a knit little bag resembling a ballon, with ornate little designs and jewels on it.
We looked at a bunch of art on the way, and also saw an exhibit on Himalayan protector demons, and we couldn't leave without evelynne seeing "The Moorish Chief" by Eduard Charlemont.
Altogether we were there about two hours. A record art museum time if there ever was one. My new approach to art museums is to take in a couple of things and leave the rest. Go back some other time, and catch some other things. Installments are good, if you can afford to do it. If I'm at the Louvre, for example, I'll be there all damn day.
Afterward we went to Silk City for my final meal there. Silk City is among the places I associate with the Philadelphia I knew before going away to college in 1998. Ever since that time, my Philadelphia has been changing and disappearing: Upstairs at Nick's, Trocadero, Pontiac Grille, the neighborhood comic book store, restaurants, condos everywhere ... and now Silk City.
My last meal was the afternoon special: cornmeal pancakes with peaches and Silk City's famous whipped cream. Our waitress was spunky, punchy and tough-cute: perfect. The pancakes were awesome, and I had a tasty Yuengling with it. Unfortunately, I was too full for bread pudding! But Rosemary is going back tonight, and will pick some up for me and freeze it until I come back in a couple of weeks to eat it.
Now, how else do you wrap up such a wonderful day of culture and fine dining? With titties, of course. We walked down Spring Garden, arm in arm, to Delilah's for some entertainment. It was late-afternoon Saturday, so no cover and the room was a bit empty, but it was a good time. Saw a few really good dancers, and we all had a ball. There was an Indian woman giving massages, and I bought some for Rosemary and myself. She looked so good giving them, and receiving one was even better.
The other funny thing is that while I had a great time with the girls and bought my share of lapdances and everything, the dancers were quite taken with Rosemary. They kept asking her if she wanted a lapdance, and were disappointed -- I mean, seemed actually disappointed -- when she turned them down.
One girl, Priscilla -- a tall, curvy, leggy Brazilian-looking girl with flowing black hair and killer moves (babyraven, think of a brown-skinned Wonder Woman) -- kept asking me if Rosemary wanted a lapdance. And she wouldn't take no for an answer.
"She likes looking, but that's it," I say.
"So she's not even bi-curious?" Priscilla asks.
"Nope!" And she really looked disappointed.
"Has she ever had a woman?"
"Nope!"
"And she's really not interested?"
"Nope."
"Dang!"
evelynne left early, and we hung around for the showcase and some of the night crew. It was a good group of dancers, and Rosemary and I were really impressed with the black and Latin girls. We're not all that into the generic blonde girls, unless they're really good -- and there were a few. But the large collection of black and Latin girls that night were absolutely dynamite. I wouldn't mind seeing a bunch of them again.
We took the El home, and went to sleep.
Sunday I helped Rosemary hit the supermarket with her new wheeled shopping cart. It's nice, but it's small; my parents had one twice its size. She did a ton of shopping, and she had to carry a few bags while I lugged the cart, but we got everything home. Some fashion show time, and then I then made some pasta with ground turkey, roasted peppers, olive oil and garlic, and Rosemary got the Trader Joe's breaded eggplant out. A very yummy dinner.
By that time I had to get leaving. Rosemary hugged and kissed me, and I stepped onto the SEPTA bus on my way to the Greyhound terminal. At they showed "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" on the way back to Bristol.