Day 26: I Have Never Participated in a Literary Pub Crawl

Whoops, I forgot no pictures were taken on this day. Other than sleeping off the jet lag, our day consisted of buying some toiletries and underwear (fuck you, Air Canada), and drinking in a few pubs. In the evening, we went on a "Literary Pub Crawl." A pair of tour guides took us around Dublin and, in between pints, told us tales of famous Irish authors, and performed some snippets of their works. It was really fucking neat!

As far as pictures, I’m just gonna pick out a few random pics from our trip that I wouldn’t be posting here otherwise, because Pam is a great photographer and I like showing her shit off.

This is a cathedral in Dublin. We didn’t go into any cathedrals because, I dunno, it kind of feels like once you’ve been in one cathedral you’ve been to them all. But it looked pretty from the outside.

This is City Hall in Belfast, Northern Ireland. It was listed as a "Top Attraction" in our guidebook of Ireland, I suppose because it looks neat at night. You have to know that we chose to drink in a pub instead of taking a tour of a government building though, right?

This is a shot from a bridge in Galway, which was probably my favorite town. I don’t know why all these ribbons were tied to the bridge, except that it gave Pam an opportunity for another badass pic.

A shot of a beach town along the Ring of Kerry. Our tour bus (the only day we step foot on a bus was this day) made frequent stops for the nice views (when it wasn’t raining). It ain’t Wildwood, but it made for some nice scenery.

When I think of towns in Ireland, I picture them multicolored like this. Pictured above is a bunch of buildings along the River Lee in Cork. Ireland was cool, yo.

Love,
Joey

Day 25: I Have Never Had My Flight Cancelled

Pam and I would never survive on The Amazing Race. We’d be the first ones out. Taking care of your own travel arrangements is just too damn frustrating.

When we booked our flights to Ireland, we booked all our tickets with Air Canada, because, I dunno, probably because it was the cheapest? You get what you pay for.

So we’re sitting there, two hours before our flight is scheduled to lift off, when Pam gets an urgent email: “FLIGHT CANCELLED.” We run over to the gate we’re supposed to board from, only to find a line 40 people deep. “What does this mean?” everyone is asking. No one knows.

We ended up waiting in line for over four hours while Air Canada slowly plodded along rebooking everyone’s flights.

Actually, we ended up on a better flight, so I can’t complain about everything. Instead of flying to Toronto, then Dublin, we flew direct to Dublin, and ended up getting in a couple hours earlier than expected. And I can’t even complain about WHY the flight was cancelled, because the weather really was atrocious. It was one of those thunderstorms that just looks so foreboding, with the black clouds and whipping winds.

But what I CAN complain about is the fact that—to the surprise of neither of us—Air Canada lost our luggage. If people complain about me wearing the same clothes all the time, then you’re really gonna hate the first quarter of the pictures Pam took. Took them two days to return our luggage to us, and that process was pretty terrible too, though I won’t bore you with those details. Horrible customer service all around.

Our flights weren’t cancelled on the way home, but they were delayed for hours each time, which means we were forced to wait it out in (*shudder*) a Wahlburgers. I was told the burgers could only be cooked well-done, and Mark Wahlburg once beat the shit out of a guy so bad he went blind. Fuck you Air Canada.

Love,
Joey

P.S. The next ten posts or so are gonna be about our trip to Ireland. If this sounds boring to you, or if you would rather read blog posts that aren’t just me rambling on about my own life, please skip ahead, I won’t mind.

Day 24: I Have Never Been a Member of the Democratic Party

23 states have what are called "open primaries." That means that, when you vote in the primaries for any given election, you can vote for anyone. If you are a Republican, for instance, you can help decide who will be the Democratic nominee.

Pennsylvania, of course, is not an open primary state.

When you live in a state that has closed primaries, you’re kinda useless when you don’t belong to either of the two major parties, because rarely does anyone from outside the two major parties have a chance at winning a general election, and if you don’t belong to those parties, you can’t choose who ends up on the general election ballot in the first place.

Seventeen-going-on-eighteen-year-old Joey, of course, didn’t take this into consideration. And it was a different time, anyway! I didn't feel such a personal stake in elections. I was just a young dumb kid.

My thought process was this: I don’t believe in everything Democrats believe in, and I don’t believe in everything that Republicans believe in, so why brand myself as either? It seemed icky to me, like I was selling out my individuality to be part of either of these groups.

Three things happened, I guess, that made me throw my hat in with the donkeys.

The first two are practical:

1) The 2016 Presidential Primaries pitted Bernie Sanders against Hillary Clinton. While, fucking obviously, I voted for Clinton in the general election, during the primaries I MUCH would have preferred Sanders. As an Independent, though, I couldn’t vote for him in Philly. I feel like I let him down.

2) The 2017 local Philadelphia Primaries featured a hotly contested race for District Attorney (our current one has handcuffs in his immediate future). Philly, being an almost exclusively Democratic town, the primaries end up meaning more than the general elections themselves, because the Democrat beats the Republican 99 times out of 100 (again, talking local politics here). So when Krasner emerged as the right choice for the people of Philadelphia, I couldn’t help that happen. I was Independent. (In case you’re wondering, I did go to my local polling station, but as an Independent I could only vote for those bullshit general questions, like "Should the City take out such and such a loan, etc.?")

The third is ideological:

3) The political landscape has become waaaaay more polarized in the last ten years since I first registered to vote. At the time, I leaned Democrat, sure, but there were things I didn’t agree with still, and there were probably a few things I agreed with as far as Republicans go. But in the last decade, shit has gone bonkers, to the point where now Republicans in Congress are trying and trying so hard to... pass a bill that will take health care away from thirteen million people. They deny scientific facts like climate change. They pooh-pooh when guns are used for violence and do nothing to stop it. They support a misogynistic idiot bigot in the Executive Branch. Etc., etc., etc.

So it’s time I quit the bullshit and join the Democrats. They aren’t perfect, but they aren’t that.

Love,
Joey

Day 23: I Have Never Watched My Sister Get Married

I’m blessed in many ways when it comes to family. As I grow older, I come to realize more and more one of the specific ways I’m blessed, in that my job as "big brother" to my two sisters has been so fucking easy. I’m not saying that I expect older siblings to, like, get violent or something in defending younger siblings, but there’s a certain sense of responsibility that you’re supposed to look out for them, ya know?

But I really haven’t had to do any of that because both of my sisters are pretty chill. The younger of the two is more outwardly chill—she does the whole new age hippie thing, giving the proverbial peace sign in her Facebook photos from various Woodstock-y music festivals, etc. The older of the two, only one year my junior, and the one that got married today, is more low-key chill. Her coolness manifests more in that she seemingly lets any hardship in her life roll off her back with a little chuckle. If she ever tells me a story about something shitty that happened to her (her crazy-ass dogs ran away again, for example), she always tells the tale with a smirk and in good spirits.

So there really hasn’t been a time in my life when I had to worry about my sisters’ well-being, because I kinda new that they are both strong enough to handle pretty much anything on their own. I admire them and look up to them for that.

Congrats, sis.

Love,
Joey

Day 22: I Have Never Been to the One Liberty Observation Deck

TEST RUN FOR THE JOE’S NEW SUMMER BLOG ACTING AS A PHOTO BLOG

Not too bad.

Love,
Joey

Day 21: I Have Never Read a Comic Book

Series: The New Avengers

Issue: No. 12, July 2011

Cost: $1 at Brave New Worlds in Old City

Surprise #1: How complicated the story appeared to be. The Avengers who you know and love are fighting a villain in the current time, but there’s also a concurrent plot taking place in the fifties, in which an old school team of Avengers seem to be fighting a Nazi with a red skull for a face.

Surprise #2: It was jarring to see some of these Avengers together—Spiderman, the Thing, Iron Fist, Dr. Strange, Wolverine—simply because my main exposure to these characters is through movies and TV, and the licensing of these characters keeps many of them apart on-screen.

Not a Surprise #1: The gratuitous amount of exposed ass-cheeks on the female superheroes.

Surprise #3: The short length of the issue—I realize that there is a lot of work that goes into making each comic, what with the detailed art on each page, but the length made me able to read one issue in about ten minutes. And there were a lot more advertisements in the issue than I expected too.

Genuine Comic Book Experience: It was the start of a busy weekend for me, so I had to fit my comic book reading into a short window I had on my ride home on the MFL El. As soon as a I cracked open the book, a young kid approached me, and asked me about reading comic books. I’m not judging, but he looked exactly how you’d expect—a bit chubby, a bit of acne, greasy hair, large Mountain Dew in hand. He asked me about the issue I was reading in particular, and spoke to me briefly about his favorite comics, his favorite characters, and how if I were to commit to reading comic books for the rest of my life, I still would never be able to read them all. Then he got off at 8th Street.

I don’t think I’ll be reading too many comic books in the future, but I’m glad there is something out there for kids like him to connect with other people over.

Love,
Joey

Day 20: I Have Never Eaten Ice Cream at Franklin Fountain

I can get my description of our trip to Franklin Fountain in about one paragraph: We arrived at 10:45 PM on a Wednesday night and the place was still fucking packed. The staff all wore bow ties and old school ice cream scooper uniforms. Pam chose a scoop of mint chocolate chip. I chose a scoop of butter pecan. The ice cream was fucking delicious. I don’t think it’s possible to justify the prices, however. In that regard, I’d label Franklin Fountain a tourist trap.

Okay, now give me the floor to rant a little bit.

There was a lady there last night, had to be in her early 30s I’d say. We watched her first stand on her tiptoes to get a picture of the big sign behind the counter. Then she flipped the camera around to selfie mode and recorded herself talking about where she was. Then she walked over a took pictures of the knickknacks in the back of the store. Then she got her ice cream and had to take a fucking selfie with it. It never ended.

I will never fucking understand why some people feel the need to document every fucking thing in their lives. It makes me furious, it depresses me, it makes me feel sorry myself and for everyone in the room.

I know this is a stupid argument to hang my hat on. And I know it’s an argument that I will never win, because more people my age are like this than aren’t.

And I know it’s fucking hypocritical of me, the guy blogging about every day of his summer, to complain about people documenting their experiences. Joecallsthekettleblack.blogspot.com

But the whole enterprise of taking pictures of yourself fucking reeks of self-obsession, and completely lacks humility. "Look at me! I am doing something cool right now!"

It’s okay to do something cool right now, but I think it stinks that people have to rub it in each other’s faces. I don’t fucking get it. I don’t get why people feel the need to do this shit. Who the fuck in the world could possible care that you are in an ice cream shop on Market Street?!

Okay, again, I’m being hypocritical. I get it. But I’m not rubbing this shit in your face. The link to this blog will be posted on Facebook maybe three or four times over the summer, and attached to the link will be reassurances that you don’t have to click the link if you don’t want to. I’m not trying to be annoying. I’m trying to organize my thoughts and write them in a way that might bring new insights into the world. This blog isn’t just a picture of a fucking sign behind an ice cream counter and a picture of my smug face licking a fucking ice cream cone. I might be failing in attempting to make this all something MORE, but I’m fucking trying, okay?

FUCK did that lady pissed me off last night. You know who else pissed me off? The two people in front of us were obviously on a first or second date, you could just tell. Good for them. But when the conversation hit a quiet moment, the dude whipped out his phone and with an empty drooling smirk he stared at a few Snapchat stories, all while the girl stood next to him, staring off into the distance.

It was fucking rude. And it’s fucking absurd that this is normal behavior. Nobody batted an eye. How did we get like this?

And you know what the worst part about it all is? My anger and depression about this bullshit compels me to act in the complete opposite manner, or as close as I can. Pam’s gotten mad at me recently for not answering texts promptly, but I’m not going to pull out my phone and stare at it in the middle of conversations with people that are right there with me, in real life. I think it’s rude, and I’m not going to do it.

And I would LOVE to have gotten a picture of me and Pam at that ice cream shop, and shared it with y’all on an appropriate social media platform. But I didn’t, because in my now-warped mind, even the act of hitting the camera button on your phone is an embarrassing display of narcissism. I’ve done it only a handful of times for this blog (use the camera app, I mean), and each and every time I’ve felt dirty, like I’m betraying my values and morals.

I wish that sometimes people would just put the phone down and experience something in real life as it’s happening. I really enjoyed that ice cream, and I didn’t need an Instagram post to prove it. The whole thing just makes me so goddamn sad.

I apologize for this post. Carry on.

Love,
Joey

Day 19: I Have Never Traded In Books at the Book Trader

Sometimes I’m going to use this summer project as an excuse to get chores done that Pam has been wanting me to do for a while. I get to kill two birds with one stone.

We’ve been practicing "minimalism" lately, meaning that we’re trying to get rid of most of our belongings that we don’t actually need. Our attention recently turned to the dozens of books collecting dust on our bookshelves. Most of these were books bought for a high school or college class. Most were not being read.

(I did keep a few books. The Harry Potter series, of course. My favorite book of all time, Infinite Jest, in all its pretentiously footnoted glory, made the cut. I kept 1984 and Brave New World, because they seemed relevant, ya know, for some reason or other.)

And so we packed up the books, and they sat there for a few months, much to Pam’s chagrin. But it’s a new summer, and it’s a new Joe, and so I took this opportunity to get rid of the damn things, and possibly get something back in exchange.

Enter the Book Trader, located at 2nd and Market Streets in Old City. Despite the fact that I’m not the most voracious reader in the world, I still can sense a certain magic in bookstores like this. Stacks and stacks of books, organized haphazardly, two floors of any type of book you could possibly desire.

The coolest part is that you can trade in your old books for store credit. Hence the "trader" part of the storefront title, I guess. In any case, my man behind the counter assessed the books we gave in. I expected maybe $20 for the books in the bins we brought—there were some good ones in there, but also some shit.

Nah, $108 bucks. Good shit! I was able to pick out three books and still have $91 in store credit left, which doesn’t expire.

Now, minimalism is still the rule of law here at the K*** Home, so when I’m done reading the books, they’ll be getting traded back in too. Eventually, depending how fast I can read, the store credit will diminish to zero, but for now, I’m going to treat it like a library without the late fees.

Alright, time to finally dig into Great Expectations.

Love,
Joey

Day 18: I Have Never Hung Out at John F. Collins Park

Hey, did you know there was a tiny little park near the corner of 17th and Chestnut? Neither did I, until this week. It kind of felt like Number 12, Grimmauld Place in Harry Potter; my muggle eyes would just move from the bagel shop on one side right to the pizza shop on the other, and completely skip over the park that’s been in front of me the whole time.

John F. Collins Park was a nice treat.

After being cooped up in an office all day, this little slice of nature really hit the spot during my lunch hour. Check out how serene this is:

I chilled on a park bench for a nice 45 minutes, listening to the birds chirping and the gentle trickle of the stone fountain.

Spent my time there reading a tourism book about Ireland. Me and Pam are leaving for vacation in a week!

What will my eleven vacation days bring for this blog? Probably nothing, while it’s happening. I’m not going to be blogging from a different country. When I get back, I’ll cherry-pick the best things we did every day (since it’s all new), and post a bunch of pictures, still making a post for each day of the summer.

But that’s not until next week. Today, it was nice to get away from work for a couple minutes.

Love,
Joey

Day 17: I Have Never Made a Mojito / a Tropical Painkiller / a Blue Hawaiian / Etc.

Usually when I make mixed drinks, I end up making a rum and ginger, and I make them poorly, so I end up blacking out and, like, dancing in my underwear at karaoke or something.

But during a chance gift-choosing during my in-laws’ Secret Santa, I pulled not a candle or a sweater or another candle, but a "Global Cocktail Mixer Sample Set." Basically it was twelve little bottles of premixed "globally-inspired" mixed drinks. No liquor included, but me and Pam still have some handles leftover from our wedding three years ago.

So my new thing was making these drinks for myself and friends. Did I actually make these drinks from scratch? No, but it’s my summer, so fuck you, I’ll do whatever new thing I want.

Last night was the Tony Awards, and I am blessed with friends who have no reason too thin to get together and drink. I found that mixing fancy drinks in a blender was just lame enough for a viewing of the Tonys.

The cocktails:

Appletini
Origin: New York
Ingredients: 1.5 oz vodka, 1.5 oz sour apple Schnapps, 0.5 oz sweet-and-sour mix, ice
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of red liquid, vodka, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Hello, Dolly!, because nothing really captures the true spirit of New York then sipping a fucking appletini and watching old people dance to old, lame songs.

Blue Hawaiian
Origin: Hawaii, duh
Ingredients: 1 oz light rum, 1 oz blue curacao liqueur, 2 oz pineapple juice, 1 oz cream of coconut, 1 slice pineapple, 1 maraschino cherry
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of blue liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: South Pacific, because approximate geography I guess

Caipirinha
Origin: Brazil
Ingredients: a quartered lime, 1 tsp sugar, 2.5 oz cachaca, ice
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of opaque white liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Mummenschanz, because the drink and the play have equally ridiculous names

Mai Tai
Origin: Tahiti
Ingredients: 1.5 oz spiced rum, 1.5 oz coconut rum, 1 tsp grenadine syrup, 3 oz pineapple juice, 2 oz orange juice, ice
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of pink liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: My Fair Lady, because homophones are cool

Margarita
Origin: Mexico
Ingredients: 0.75 oz lime juice, orange liqueur, 1.5 oz Blanco tequila, kosher salt
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of light green liquid, tequila stored in a water bottle, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Damn Yankees, because that’s what I yell when I see the cultural appropriation of Americans drinking margaritas on Cinco de Mayo

Mojito
Origin: Cuba
Ingredients: 2 tbsp lime juice, 2 tbsp fine sugar, crushed ice, 12 fresh mint leaves, 2 oz white rum, 2 tbsp club soda
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of white liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Rent, because it was the first musical allowed to be performed in Cuba in 50 years

Moscow Mule
Origin: Russia
Ingredients: 1.5 oz vodka, 1.5 oz lime juice, ice, 0.5 cups ginger beer, lime wedge
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of clear liquid, vodka, ginger beer, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Fiddler on the Roof, as Wikipedia tells me this takes place in Russia, but I’m too lazy to make any trump jokes today

Peach Bellini
Origin: Italy
Ingredients: 2 ripe peaches, 1 tbsp lemon juice, 1 tsp sugar, 1 bottle chilled prosecco sparkling wine
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of orange liquid, cheap champagne
Best play pairing: Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark, because pairing drinks to musicals is hard.

Piña Colada
Origin: Puerto Rico
Ingredients: 1.5 cups ice, 0.5 cups diced pineapple, 2 oz pineapple juice, 2 oz coconut cream, 1.5 oz white rum, 1 oz dark rum, pineapple slices
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of yellow liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Save this one for the Jimmy Buffett musical, because every fucking thing on Earth will soon be a musical

Singapore Sling
Origin: Singapore?
Ingredients: 1.5 oz gin, 1.5 oz cherry-flavored brandy, 0.25 oz tiple sec, 0.25 oz Benedictine liqueur, 4 oz pineapple juice, 0.5 oz lime juice, 0.5 oz grenadine syrup, fresh pineapple
Joe’s actual ingredients: a bottle of red liquid, gin out of a water bottle marked with a “G” so I didn’t mix it up with the water bottle of tequila, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Arsenic and Old Lace, because this shit tastes like poison

Sydney Sunrise
Origin: Australia
Ingredients: 2 tbsp honey, 3 centiliters lime juice, 2 deciliters orange juice, 1 egg, vodka
Joe’s actual ingredients: another red liquid, vodka, crushed ice
Best play pairing: This King Kong musical was made in Australia. A King Kong musical!!

Tropical Painkiller
Origin: British Virgin Islands
Ingredients: 2 oz. Pusser’s rum, 4 oz pineapple juice, orange juice, cream of coconut, grated nutmeg, pineapple wedge
Joe’s actual ingredients: a pink liquid, rum, crushed ice
Best play pairing: Into the Woods, gonna need a painkiller if I ever have to sit through this musical again

Love,
Joey

Day 16: I Have Never Attended a Spin Class

11 REASONS WHY SPIN CLASS IS GREAT BUZZFEED LISTICLE

Number 9 will make you LOL!!!

1. It’s really easy to sign up!!!

I just went on the website for Elkins Spark and entered my sixteen-digit credit card number for a drop-in fee.

2. I didn’t break the bank!!!

Only $15 for a 45-minute class? Ummmm...

3. The instructor was really helpful!!!

She helped me get all set up on my fancy stationary bike.

4. It was quite a challenge!!!

My legs were burning, and my shirt was soaked.

5. I was the only guy there!!!

6. I was informed of the type of music that suburban moms listen to these days!!!

Gotta love that Bruno Mars.

7. The instructor warned us when songs had curse words, and continually apologized during those songs!!!

I will go to bat for “Downtown” by Macklemore, cursing or no cursing.

8. You get to burn off any cheesesteaks you’ve recently eaten at a strip club

9. You get to act like a Nick Kroll character, even if you’re like me and have never found a single thing that Nick Kroll has ever done funny!!!

10. I got to work on my summer bod, and it only took 45 minutes!!!

11. I’ll definitely be going back!!!

Not really. Maybe I’ll try boot camp next.

Love,
Joey

Day 15: I Have Never Been to Club Risqué’s Free Weekday Lunch

Pam was sleeping from working night shift, and my buddy Dwy, who loves strip clubs, to the point where he is kind of obsessed, is currently unemployed, and today’s date is coincidentally 6/9, so it seemed like a pretty good day to check out Club Risqué.

And so there we are, on campus, good ol' La Salle, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, and—even though I know by 2017 this is indecent to admit—it’s "baby week" for the theater folk, i.e. "pledge week," and we have our "babies" (pledges) pile into the minivans, and we head off into the night, and end up at fucking Day Dreams. For many—remember, these are the theater kids—this is the first sojourn at a strip club. Jaws slacked and ATM surcharges were incurred. Barely anyone was 21, and we snuck so much beer to the teens with us that the strippers had to confiscate our case of Natty Light and hide it behind the bar. College was awesome.

I see the billboard all the time on I-95 North, the one that says that the club has free lunch every day. That’s a good sell! I am down for free lunch, whatever the context. Even if that context is going to a strip club on a weekday before the sun is even at the highest point in the sky yet. Dwy (whose full name I will not print here, giving him the same courtesy I give myself by never writing my last name) met me in the AM, and we took the trip from the Northeast to the Southeast, where Christopher Columbus Blvd. hooks east and sprawls through factories and chain restaurants like Famous Dave’s. Strip clubs that feature all-nude women can’t be within X miles from a school, so that’s why they all are bunched up down there, in the industrial part of South Philly, with not a school in sight.

We were at a bachelor party but the bachelor was already married. It didn’t matter. A bachelor party isn’t really about a guy being single anymore, it’s about hanging with your boys, drinking some beers, and possibly seeing some boobs. The Republican fulfills some or most of those requirements. It’s an after-hours strip club, complete with a lifted smoking ban, dreadlocked dancers, and a real live dog running around the club while you’re getting your dick hard. Bedbugged couches are in the back for you to get grinded on. "Private" dances are cheap. You may even have a friend who's so drunk that he tries to fight strangers when he can’t find his jacket. It’s just one of those fucking nights when you end up at the Republican, Philly’s weirdest strip club.

We passed Pennsport Pub, which is a strip club like Burger King is a steak house, and Show and Tell, which—

Three of us—me, Dave, the other Joe—are parked at the McDonald’s across the street from Show and Tell. Only Dave is 21, so we’re pregaming, as only 19-year-olds can: in a McDonald’s parking lot, with six Hurricane forties. Sufficiently sloshed, we head into Show and Tell, and it’s bizarre. In fact, the McDonald’s parking lot drinking episode wasn’t even warranted. The bouncer made a big deal about the fact that we were underage, but the strippers are letting us drink draft beers in the back rooms of the club. Just another memorably bizarre night with the boys.

—and so we end up at Club Risqué, alongside a lot more cars in the parking lot than I would’ve guessed. It’s 11:30 AM, I haven’t eaten breakfast yet, and we’re entering a goddamn strip club. The entrance is unlocked. There’s no one at the front desk where they usually card with the help of a burly bouncer. Empty. The metal detector isn’t functional. We sidestep it, and open the entrance to the club. I peek my head in. There’s the DJ. And... that’s it. No one. We’re the only ones there.

It’s January of 2012, and it’s a Friday and I didn’t have work until 11 AM, so me and Dwy (go figure) decide it might be a good time to go to Day Dreams when it opens. At 7 AM. It’s the Wing Bowl Afterparty. We didn’t go to the Wing Bowl, but Day Dreams isn’t, like, checking for ticket stubs or anything, so we go. The 7 AM start time was widely advertised. So too were the "69 strippers" and the "free beer." We show up at 7:00 on the motherfucking dot. We enter. We’re the only ones there. Imagine, two 21 year olds, wallets fucking empty, eating free soft pretzels, drinking free draft beer, fucking SURROUNDED by naked women who want nothing but the money you legitimately don’t have, and you feel bad but maybe just uncomfortable, getting circled by vultures. I made it to work that day. I was drunk and I smelled like the perfume of every stripper that rubbed up on me, looking for $20.

Eventually a bartender shows up, and apologizes that no one else is there. "We just opened," she explains. "Yeah," goes the response, "I’m pretty upset there’s no other guys here to enjoy this one stripper with us."

Me and about 40 of my friends rolled up in a school bus to the creepy Day Dreams parking lot, and I capped off one of the wildest, most fun weekends of my life. My bachelor party. Holy shit. Drinking champagne in the pool, killing cases on a bus, watching a struggling Phillies, all these things make a great bachelor party, but I guess you’re obligated to top it off with some tops off, if you’re truly at a bachelor party, right? My best man did a great job pulling it all together, and he was rewarded by a stripper ripping a hole in his underwear right on stage. What a night.

We order Coors Light bottles, and I’m certainly not gonna type their prices here. We order our lunches, but the price of the food I’ll gladly discuss: FREE. The billboard was true. The cheesesteaks and french fries brought to us at the bar as we watched a bored looking young woman remove her dress did not cost a penny.

Someone had googled it—you could definitely enter Day Dreams if you were the over the age of eighteen and you had someone sign you in. All four of us high schoolers were eighteen years old, and we felt that it was time to finally see some breasts. This night included other events that could only occur in high school—smoking at a hookah bar, ordering Girls Gone Wild on Pay Per View, singing Bright Eyes out the car window going the speed limit on 95—but for the most part, we just wanted to get into the strip club. We, I, had never been. Call it a rite of passage. After the requisite case-killing in the parking lot, we got some poor soul to sign up into the club (and ostensibly assume full responsibility for our drunk high school asses). But we signed our names, wore the wristband, got large Xs on our wrists, and then we were IN. Boys will be boys, but La Salle boys will be gentlemen.

Guys, it was a weird-ass afternoon. The bar barely had any lights on. The DJ was LOUD, and it was barely past noon. The cheesesteak was better than any strip club cheesesteak had any right to be (yo Craig Laban, listen up!). Again, we were the only ones there. And again, it was just past noon on a weekday. Free food notwithstanding, I wouldn’t recommend this, unless you have some money to burn. The only stripper working the afternoon shift still had time to give some lapdances. I did not have money to burn. Also, I’m married. Okay, I’m drunk, goodnight everyone.

Love,
Joey

Day 14: I Have Never Drank on the Roof of a Library

"If I want to have a drink I don’t really have to play a game while I’m doing it."

This is a quote from Jess’s older, more mature boyfriend in an early season of New Girl. I thought a lot about this quote when I headed up to the roof of the Central Branch of the Philly Library today.

While we weren’t playing a drinking game, per se, I thought that it was tangentially related in this way: Some people can just enjoy alcohol, and some people need to be drinking in an actively interesting way for it to mean anything, at the end of the day.

I’m not bragging but I’m not ashamed when I say, I’ve drank a lot in my short time on this earth, and I’ve done it in so many, varied ways. I’ve drank watching equestrian. I’ve drank in 1.5 oz increments every minute for 100 minutes. I’ve drank by myself on a rock along the Cumberland River. I’ve drank while the drinking container was duct-taped to my hands. I’ve drank on a public bus, on an airplane, on a large pedal bike, on the bow of a cruise ship. I’ve drank while on someone’s shoulders. I’ve drank out of a tiny hole keyed into an aluminum can, and out of a hose coming out of a large metal keg.

I digress a bit, but my point is that I am definitely the type of person that needs to be doing something COOL while drinking. I love sitting around and sipping on the suds with a few friends, but life is awesome when you are drinking and doing something new.

The way I feel about this could probably explain my obsession with learning new drinking games. It explains my love of bringing a cold one with me whenever I explore the wilderness. It absolutely explains why half the goddamn blog posts I’ve written on this blog have been with beer (or Twisted Tea) in hand.

And it definitely explains why I was so excited to drink on the roof of a library.

Every Thursday in May and June, the Philadelphia Library is allowing you to head to their rooftop event area and drink some beers while admiring the decent view of the city.

Between the moderately priced Bud Light pounders, the fact that I was with friends I hadn’t seen in ages, and that fucking view, I had a great evening. That’s what this summer is all about, yo. Beer, friends, and new ways to drink that beer with those friends.

Sorry. I am very drunk right now.

Love,
Joey

Day 13: I Have Never Tasted Durian Fruit

Usually, when I taste a new food, no matter how bizarre, I can always find a comparison. Eating kangaroo is on my short list of ideas for this new summer, but, like, I’m sure when I eat it, it’s gonna taste like chicken or steak or something. I can locate where it falls on my taste buds. I have a frame of reference.

I have never fucking tasted anything like durian.

First, you may have to ask this question: What IS durian? I had that same question when I read this article from the AVClub oh so many years ago. Look at the picture of fresh durian. It looks weeeeird, doesn't it?

"Durian" comes from a Malaysian word meaning "spikes," as you can see above. Durian, in some Southeastern cultures, is known as the "king of fruits." Everyone that is aware of durian knows the most unique part about it—its smell.

There is no way I can fucking describe the thing accurately in words. Wikipedia has such suggestions as "rotten onions," "turpentine," and "raw sewage." Pam offered up at different times "moldy" and "metallic." I, personally, don’t agree with any of that, but I can’t quite place it. It’s bad, yo. To tell you how bad it is, certain hotels in SE Asia have banned the fruit because it smells so bad.

But people fucking eat it! I ate it today, but full disclosure, I could not bring myself to eat in its pure, fresh form. Not only did I not want to eat that abomination pictured above, but also, it’s pretty tough to find in the city. I was told that a few shadier spots in South Philly (Washington Ave.) might have some, but I work closer to Chinatown, so I was gonna get whatever Chinatown had to offer.

I stumbled in a place Mong Kok Station Bakery, on 10th Street between Race and Arch (which was ostensibly Chinatown’s Bakery Row, as far as I could tell). The atmosphere wasn’t quite up to the level of Frank in the basement of Paddy’s, but there were definitely a LOT of people in there just hanging out, definitely not buying anything. They seemed to specialize in desserts and smoothies.

(I’m not a picture-taker, and that felt really fucking icky taking those pics while I was getting rung up for my purchase, so you’re welcome?!)

Anyways, like I was saying, I didn’t get fresh durian, but I got two durian-flavored desserts. The first was a durian tart pastry, and the second a durian bubble smoothie.

Sitting on a stoop on 10th St., I attempted the smoothie first. It did not go down smoothly. Holy moly. Guys, I still have no idea how to describe this thing (Shit, I should’ve asked Craig Laban yesterday!). Okay... imagine the spectrum of banana ripeness, from dark green all the way to blackish-brown mush. Now, imagine that spectrum isn’t a line, but actually a circle. Now imagine the point in between the dark green banana and the blackish-brown banana mush. That’s where the durian flavor lies. And yeah... maybe some rotten onion.

I couldn’t do more than three sips before giving up. It was a flavor that stayed in my mouth long after I dumped the other 19 oz. of smoothie in the curbside trash. The pastry went into my backpack, in case anyone else wanted to try it.

And for what it’s worth, I had severe diarrhea about five minutes after I attempted the smoothie. I’m not saying they are connected (I’m sure my turkey breast footlong from Subway had way more to do with it), but, who’s to say, really?

The durian tart eventually made it’s way back to my parents’ house at the end of the night (after Pam earlier had flatly refused to even take a whiff). I passed it around. Dad took a sniff and just shook his head. Mom-Mom, game as she usually is for a culinary challenge, actually ate a few morsels without complaint. Mom ate half and declared what will be the final description of durian for tonight:

"It tasted like cat urine."

Love,
Joey

Day 12: I Have Never Taken Part in Craig Laban’s Tuesday Chat

I’ve recently become somewhat addicted to reading Craig Laban, Philly’s premiere food critic. My obsession with the Philly.com food section is, let’s be honest, incongruous with the way I live my life. "Going out to eat" for me and Pam usually consists of bar food, so what the fuck am I doing reading articles about the newest fancy Rittenhouse Italian steakhouse or whatever bullshit?

Frankly, I don’t know. After a bit of reflection, I kind of equate it to people who look at real estate listings for fun in their spare time. Just like you know you’re never gonna afford that Ambler, PA mansion, I know I’m never going to be ordering $8 oysters at Ocean Prime, but it’s still fun to read about. Let’s call it escapism.

Craig Laban has been the go-to food critic in this town since I start perusing the Inquirer occasionally as a child, but I just started appreciating him recently. It was nice, for instance, to see his glowing two-bell review of our favorite neighborhood haunt, Bait and Switch in Port Richmond. It felt personal to me, in a good way.

(His rating system, by the way, is zero to four "bells" instead of stars. As in Liberty Bell. You get it. Zero bells is shit, one bell needs improvement, two bells are great, three bells are excellent, four bells are fucking elite and there are like six restaurants in the city with a four-bell review.)

I honestly don’t know how he is able to visit so many restaurants, bars, etc., every week. Like, the reason there isn’t any pictures of him online has to be that he’s so goddamn fat from eating so much great food, right?

Anyway, in between eating out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Laban also apparently makes time for an hour every Tuesday to talk food and drink with the hoi polloi. Today, I and other anonymous internet dwellers chatted with the man himself on Philly.com. I allotted my lunch hour to line up with the chat, and I wrote my questions in advanced.

Other people asked questions, and through Laban’s insight, I learned:

• St. John feta is bangin’ and can be found at DiBruno Bros.
• There is a brewery called La Cabra in Berwyn and it makes a great raspberry ale.
• There’s a sliced pizza place on 21st St. called Rione that just opened.
• Maido has good Japanese curry.
• Nam Phuong at 11th and Washington has a good Vietnamese crepe, and contrary to popular belief, Vietnamese crepes do not have eggs in them.
• The Borgata in Atlantic City has a new Italian restaurant, and it is subpar.
• Gotta try Andy’s Chicken in Fishtown one of these days.

Will I actually go to any of these places? Probably not. But I find it strangely interesting to read this man’s opinions on food.

I was lucky enough to ask two questions:

And:

Cheers to many more food adventures this summer! Though hopefully more that actually involve me eating some food instead of just reading about it.

Love,
Joey
a.k.a. JK
a.k.a. JNS1

Day 11: I Have Never Received a Tarot Card Reading

I’ve never received a psychic reading of any kind because I think—no, because I know that they are bullshit. But I thought that it would be interesting to get one anyway, because it’s just that type of summer. And also, I thought it would be cool to record it and kind of analyze it afterward.

So, written below, is a transcript of my 25-minute tarot card reading. Following that will be a brief discussion on it, what I thought of it, what I see as the psychic’s methods, etc.

Note #1: I had two options going into this. I could play it straight, and answer questions honestly, and not be an asshole; or, I could play it like a joke, and feed her bullshit to see what comes out the other side. I chose the former option. It’s less funny, but I was less of a dick, and I felt a lot less dirty afterward than I would have otherwise.

Note #2: Besides very few "uhs" and "ums" that were cut, I transcribed the conversation word-for-word. Microsoft Word went crazy with the green grammar underlines when I was typing up the draft, because the psychic had a very goofy way of speaking. I was pretty tongue tied too at times. I just wanted to note that when the dialogue sounds ridiculous, it was not because I copied it incorrectly.

Note #3: Technically, recording this conversation was illegal, as PA is a "two-party consent" state when it comes to recording consent. So, in order to avoid legal prosecution, I will not be disclosing to you, humble reader, exactly whom I was speaking to, or where her business is located. For all you know, I could be making this all up, right?! This was all a work of fiction, officer, I swear!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Psychic: You can sit right here, make yourself comfortable.

Joe: Thank you.

P: Do you work around here?

J: Yeah, I do. In [censored].

P: Oh okay, what do you do?

J: Uh, social worker.

P: That’s great. That’s beautiful.

J: It’s interesting.

P: Okay, so today, you would like a tarot card reading.

J: Yeah, whatever the $50 one is. I have $50 in cash.

P: That’s fine. Have you ever had a reading before, Joseph?

J: Never.

P: This would be your first time.

J: Mhm.

P: Well congratulations to you!

J: Thank you.

P: Alright, so let’s see what’s going on.

J: Sure.

P: Okay, so just make yourself comfortable. How this is going to work is this: I want you to shuffle the cards like this. While you’re shuffling, you’re going to focus on two wishes. One wish you’re going to say to yourself, and one wish you’re going to state out loud. Don’t let me rush you. Take as much time as possible regarding shuffling. After you’re done, place the cards on the table, and I will read them.

J: I have to think of a good wish.

P: Take your time. This is your moment.

J: Okay.

P: Is there one you want to say out loud?

J: I, uh, wish for financial stability for me and my family.

P: Alright. And the other one you keep to yourself. Okay, place the cards right here. Alright, now I’m going to ask you, because everyone has a psychic ability, everybody was born with this gift. I want you to use your ability and just pick out which deck do you feel will tell you everything you need to know.

J: I’m gonna go with the left one here.

P: Okay Joseph. Whatever I’m going to see in your reading, bad or good, do you want to hear everything or just good?

J: Let’s do everything.

P: Everything? Okay.

[flips cards]

P: We’ll stretch these out like this. Just give me a moment Joseph, to pick up some vibes.

J: Sure.

P: Okay Joseph. The first card reveled to me was this one here. I do see you have a strong and healthy life ahead of you. You are meant to live anywhere between the age of 85 through 87.

J: Wow.

P: Which is very good. But I do see medication. Are you taking anything now?

J: Um... some tums?

P: That’s it?

J: Um... Yea pretty much. Acne medication when I was younger.

P: Okay, and you’re still on it?

J: No, not really.

P: Okay, I’ll tell you what the card is reveling to me. I see three symptoms that could be hereditary in the family. What I do see is blood pressure, heart problems, maybe even diabetic. Is this run in your family?

J: Umm... the, uh... some heart stuff? Yeah, my grandmom had some heart issues. Poor diet, ya know.

P: I understand. I do see that you will be taking medication for one of these symptoms. I don’t see it any time soon. But I see it somewhere in the age of 60, 65. But your health condition is revealing to me as it stands now. A lot of hypertension. Are you going through some type of anxiety?

J: Um... not really. Nothing major, I’d say. Work’s been going okay. I guess day-to-day anxieties. Ya know?

P: Okay, alright. Well I don’t see that you have any issues regarding health. I don’t see you have to worry about what is hereditary. I do see that you will have to treat it the rest of your life, but I don’t see any major situations happening, thank god for that.

J: Yeah, for sure.

P: Yes. Here it’s revealing to me that there’s going to be changes that will take place for you. In fact, I see three. Okay. One of them is revealing to me something regarding love. I do see something in your business career. And I do see you relocating into a new move. Were you planning on moving somewhere?

J: We’re just getting work done in the house now, so, probably not. Maybe in the next 20 years?

P: Okay, well let me tell you what the card is revealing to me. I do see somewhere between five to seven years, there’s going to be a move happening.

J: You mean like, house?

P: Yea. Okay, now you where—where do you live, in the city of Philadelphia?

J: In the city, yeah.

P: Okay, and you purchased a home, is that what it is?

J: Yeah.

P: Well, what I do see is that there’s going to be a reason why you’re going to be moving, and what I’m picking up is it’s going to be work-related. Alright. I feel, um, Joseph, that you will be moving more toward... east.

J: East?

P: I feel, Boston, Massachusetts? I do see, I see more of the east around you. It could be, New Hampshire? But I do see all of the energy of the area, okay? The reason for that is you are going to go on a higher level in your career. Maybe the same field? But in a higher level. In other words, people is going to need you. There’s going to be someone that’s going to be calling you. And I see it happening anywhere between three to four years. Joseph, your name is meant to go very far. I see this very much. You’re meant to do something other than what you’re doing now. Why do I see, um, you becoming some sort of a strong professor?

J: Maybe... due to my beard and bun?

P: No.

J: No?

P: It’s not due to your looks, it’s due to your brain! [laughter] Let me tell you what’s going on. I see you going back to school. I see you studying on something very strong. I do see that you will be very great in a lot of things that you’re meant to complete regarding... advising, teaching, um, helping, I see you there for people, I see you getting involved in organizations, I do see charity that you will be getting involved—maybe donating, but you’re going to be around a lot of wealthy people. You’re also meant to do something else, I don’t know if this is your desire, but I do see you writing. See a lot of writing around you. Did you ever desire writing a book or something?

J: Um, my blog sometimes.

P: Say that again?

J: Uh, blog, like, uh, write on my own website, I guess, sometimes.

P: Okay. What was your desire in writing a book? Did you ever want to do that?

J: Possibly. My wife’s always encouraging it.

P: Oh, really?

J: ...to write, so, I try to write a little every day.

P: I do see that that is something that is in your destiny.

J: Okay.

P: This writing is meant to take you far. You’re meant to touch many souls. Not a couple hundred people, Joseph. I’m going to say a couple... thousands of people, in your writing. You’re meant to deliver people whatever they’re going through. Setting them free. You have a strong spiritual journey ahead of you. Are you aware of this?

J: ...I was not.

P: Does this, like, ever—are—do you ever feel it, do you feel like you’re meant to do something positive and strong to give back to people to help people?

J: I mean, I would hope so, ya know, I think that’s something everyone should want. Ya know?

P: Well that is in your cards. And it’s a spiritual journey thing. It’s a blessing. But I wanna say something, Joseph. You’re struggling with many blockages. Because of that, here it’s revealing to me that there’s a lot of fear. Fear has grasped you, okay? And it’s causing you to believe that you’re meant to stay on one level, and that is not in your destiny. You are looking for direction, because you know you’re meant to do something on a higher level. You don’t know where to turn. So my advice to you is this: what I see, you’re meant to go back to school, and study on what is your heart’s desire. I know you wanna help children, I know you wanna help people, I see that in your heart, okay, but what else is your passion? What exactly did you ever want to desire to do?

J: See, I feel like that’s, uh, been a struggle in my life, to figure out what my passion is, ya know? I definitely didn’t grow up wanting to be "something." I just kind of been going from one job to another, ya know, making sure that I’m able to help support my family, but, otherwise I still feel like I’m still on the path to finding out what my passion is.

P: Okay, well, first of all, you’re worried. I see a lot of worriment around you, and that is under financial status, regarding your finances. But, you will be coming out of it very soon, okay? 2018 is meant to be a very good luck year for you. Alright, because you’re going to be on a strong level when it comes to career. There’s gonna be some good news happening, but first you have to go back to school, or either you’re going to studying on whatever job-related is going to happen, but there is an opportunity happening regarding job. Are you looking into something else to do now?

J: Um, not really. Yeah, I’m just kinda riding this job out for a little bit and see how it goes. There might be some natural advancement in work, but—

P: It’s gonna happen. Someone is going to discover you, and they’re going to take a liking to you, and they’re going to offer you a stronger position in 2018.

J: Okay.

P: So, I wouldn’t worry about finances, because I don’t see that a problem for you at all. Regarding love, um, I do see that your wife is very stable with you, I do see that she loves and cares for you. But why do I feel that there’s been a distance between the both of you guys?

J: Um... I’m not sure? Maybe, I mean, we haven’t different work schedules now, she started working a little more nights. So I guess we don’t see each other as often.

P: What does she do?

J: She’s a nurse.

P: Great. And how is that working out for her?

J: Great! Yeah, she has her Master’s in clinical nurse specialty, so she is definitely succeeding. In her field.

P: Thank god. I also see the energy of three children. Do you have any children right now?

J: Not yet.

P: I see that there’s going to be three children taking place. Thank god, I don’t see a problem, I see them being very healthy. But. There’s something that you’re striving. Your spirit is telling me that you are going through some kind of negative energy battle. You’re struggling with yourself. You’re fighting yourself. I’m going to ask you a question, Joseph. In what way did you want to see a change in your life?

J: Um. Hmm. Uh. I mean I guess the biggest one would be being healthier. With my, ya know, with having a healthier body. I mean, I guess if we’re talking big changes, having children. I’m not worried about it, but, um, that will be a change.

P: And you’ll handle it well. Don’t be afraid of it, because it’ll all come to you, and you’ll handle it well. Okay? But I do see that you’re struggling with yourself in the present time. Let me tell you what I see. I see a lot of fear. I see you struggling with a lot of negative energy, and I don’t mean to… sound like I’m knocking you, but I wanna say, you are struggling with some low self-esteem. And that is your biggest enemy right now. Okay? You feel like you can’t do it. And that is a voice that you need to block out, because I see all this good energy when it comes to good luck for you. Oh yes, you’re going to have to work at it, nothing comes easy to anyone, okay? But this is in your path. You know, this is something you’re gifted, and you’re meant to have on all of this good energy when it comes to studying and being a professor and writing this book and, you’re meant to be around wealthy people and it’s going to be, um, catchable, this wealth. But if you’re on this level that you’re in now, let me tell you what you’re doing to yourself: you’re bringing blockages, and you’re stopping your destiny from flowing in. Just because you have fear, and because you’re feeling low-energy, now you tell me if this has been something you’re going through, if, do you feel this happening to you? Because your spirit is revealing that to me.

J: I mean, I guess there is a bit of a malaise. Uh, right now, just as far as work. In my new position, it’s not as exciting, it’s more of the same thing every day. Which, you know, for the most part I’m okay with, but possibly that. I’m struggling with boredom on some days. That’s definitely a negative feeling I guess.

P: Mhmm, yeah. I see you’re fighting a spiritual battle when it comes to negative energy. You gotta put that under your foot, and say to yourself what I’m telling you. Changes is happening. And doors are going to open in the year 2018. Alright? Having to say that, that’s when the responsibility starts happening, but you have to know that you have to build yourself up strong to face the good energy regarding what is meant to come. Okay? So whatever you’re going through now, build your self-esteem up. Get rid of the fear. Know that you can do it. Because the cards say one thing, but your spirit is telling me another, and that is not healthy. Because you have a good fortune ahead of you. Okay? Is there a question you want to ask me toward your reading?

J: Um… so this all speaks to my future?

P: Yeah, what I told you is hap- is going to happen... doesn’t... it doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen easily. You have to work at it. Work on yourself. Okay? In 2018, you’re going to switch positions, and you’re gonna go on a higher level when it comes to your career. I don’t know exactly, but it has to do something in the medical.

J: Medical?

P: Yes.

J: Okay.

P: And, um, it’s gonna be very good, that’s one of the doors that’s going to lead to other doors that’s going to happen, um, I’m going to say, within years to come. But this move that you’re meant to make because of your career. Ya know? And I know you said that you, ya know, you’ll be moving in twenty years, but, that’s not what your destiny says, and it’s the reason for it is because it’s a good move. But, your wife is definitely on her right path. She, she’s a very strong woman. She’s very strong. She, she’s the one with the positive energy, I do see that. And she’s trying to give that to you, but nobody can, ya know, just take it like that, it has to be built. But other than that there is a lotta light around you when it comes to your future. Finances is gonna change. You’re not going to stay where you’re at in this level, you are going to, in 2018, that’s when it gets better. Because of a different position, when it comes to the medical field.

J: Okay.

P: Alright? Are you satisfied with your reading?

J: Yeah, totally.

P: Good. Good. Basically this is all I see, but thank god it was great.

J: All good things.

P: All good things. Positive things. But accept it. No more fear. Believe in yourself, uh, Joseph, because what you’re about to face, you’re gonna need your strength. On good things.

J: Sure.

P: Okay. And whenever you get a chance, work on writing. Because that’s gonna take you far. But forget about you, god forgive me for saying it, forgive me too what I’m saying. It’s about the people. It’s about—your writing is spiritual, and it’s gonna open up many people’s eyes. You’re meant to write, I know, that has to come from the heart. Okay? So basically that’s all I see, but other than that, that’s great. Looks great.

J: Thank you.

P: Alright?

J: I appreciate that.

P: So yeah, stay where you’re at now, but my high advice to you is either go back to school and study more in the medical, and uh, when this opportunity comes in 2018, you’ll be very prepared for it. Okay? That’s it.

J: Okay, thank you.

P: You’re welcome.

J: ...

P: And that’s $50 for today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, even though the price tag was outrageous considering the services rendered, I still considered this a super-interesting social experience. It gave me a deeper understanding on the concept of "psychics," and it made me appreciate being self-aware enough to be able to realize when I’m being bullshitted.

One of the biggest tricks that she employed was the sliding scale of specificity. The more specific her prediction, the farther away that prediction was allegedly going to come true. She was able to pinpoint exactly when I’m going to die—in my mid-80s—but she’s able to make that specific of a claim, because 1) if I live past the age of 87, there’s no way I’ll remember a psychic prediction from 60 years earlier, and plus she’ll be dead already, and 2) if I die before that age, she won’t be held accountable, because I’ll be dead.

But so when the predictions were for more and more recent times, they got less specific. In 5-7 years, for instance, I will be "making a move," possibly to "Boston" or maybe "New Hampshire?" A little less specific, and definitely far enough away that she lacks accountability.

The closest prediction to the current moment was when she talked about 2018, during which will apparently be a "very good luck year" for me. Not specific at all. What this might achieve for people that take her at her word, is that everything that happens next year that could be considered "lucky" would then lead to one thinking, "Oh my god, the psychic was right!" But everything that’s "unlucky" next year would be ignored in this context. Fucking classic confirmation bias.

Something else I noticed she did a few times was say something incredibly vague, ask me a question about it, and then riff on my answer. For example, she went on for a while for me feeling "low-energy" lately, which is 99% wrong. But when she asked me about it, I kind of came up with an answer anyway. I said some bullshit about feeling a "malaise" about doing the same thing at work every day. When I said this, she confirmed that, YES, THIS is what she was talking about, and riffed on it.

Sometimes she didn’t even make a claim, she just said that she "saw" something, and asked me about it. "I see medication," she said. "Do you take any?" My answer was that I do not, so she talked about how I will in the future. If I DID take medication currently, she would’ve made another prediction about that specific medication. Saying she "sees" something is a way to never be wrong.

She did it again when she "saw" the "energy of three children." This literally could lead to a prediction no matter how many children I have. I have none, so she simply predicted I’d have three. If I already had three children, she would’ve just claimed that’s why she saw three. If I had one, she would’ve predicted I’d have two more. If I had four children, she would’ve asked me if there were any problems with one of my children, and if there was, she would’ve claimed that THAT was the reason why she only had the energy of three children, because that fourth child had "blockages" or whatever the fuck.

Occasionally, like a broken watch, she was actually right. I think the closest she came to getting to the truth about Joey was when she asked about writing. I’ve written every day for the past eleven days, and plan on writing again for the next 91, so yeah, I’d reasonably say "writing" is a part of my life right now.

And when she said "writing," and she got a confirmation from me, she KNEW that this was the thing she should concentrate on. Note that she didn’t say that I would be a successful writer without confirming that I even occasionally write. She needed that confirmation first.

This was then tied in to the biggest, scammy-est part of the whole endeavor, which was when she had me give a wish out loud at the beginning of the session. Of course whatever I say is going to be the thesis of the whole reading. I definitely threw her a softball when I talked about my wish for "financial stability." How many people you think walk in that room and talk about money?

(Sidenote: If you’re wondering what my secret, unspoken wish was, it was that the Phillies would win the World Series this decade.)

So when I confirmed that I write, and I had already talked briefly about finances, her thesis became that I will write and make money by writing, and she also threw in some stuff about how my writing will also "open people’s eyes" for good measure. It’s not hard to see the method used here.

My favorite was when she was straight up wrong, and how she dealt with that, and almost as important, how I dealt with that. She claimed that there was some "distance" between me and Pam. Unless I’m missing something (uh, Pam? any insight on this?!), I would classify this as incorrect. We’re doing pretty well.

But I got suckered in, and I made an excuse for her, when I talked about how Pam has been working night shift recently, so there was a physical distance, not an emotional one. I could’ve just said "Nope," but I didn’t. Again, she counts on people to make excuses for her.

Even then, I don’t think my explanation was strong enough for her to riff on, so she flipped the script. She asked what Pam did for a living, and after I spoke glowingly, she started to talk about how I was the problem, with my low energy, anxiety, and self-doubt. See, there is a distance, but it’s just a distance on my side of the relationship.

God, this shit was so interesting, how she pulled these tricks. And you know what? She wasn’t even good at it! I mean, read the fucking transcript. It sounds like she’s reading off a cue card at certain points or something. I can’t imagine how many suckers you could convince or your power if you were actually competent at being a "psychic."

Which leads me to my final point: What is the PURPOSE of going to see a psychic? Unless you are writing some bullshit amateur blog, why even bother? I think the end of our tarot reading really underlined the point.

Toward the end, she spoke a lot of can-do-it platitudes: "No more fear," "Believe in yourself," "It doesn’t mean it’s going to happen easily... you have to work at it," "Build your self-esteem up," "Know that you can do it."

I can imagine that the typical customer of a psychic really does have low self-esteem in some aspects of their lives, or anxieties, or fears. And I can imagine that hearing about good things in the future might be a comfort to these people.

Claiming that her predictions won’t come true without hard work and dedication might seem like a cop-out to some, a way for her to release herself from culpability if (and when) these predictions don’t come true. But I’m choosing to see it a different way. I’m choosing to think that people that see this psychic and others like her honestly need to hear some positive things about their life, and need the motivation to get better on their own.

Is this a scam? FUCK YES. No doubt about it. But at the end of the day, I can see it being emotionally beneficial to people anyway.

Love,
Joey