This Is How We (Apparently) Do It

I only wish it was this bad. Fake John Reiff?

Friday, August 24, 2007: 1:30-2:00 A.M.: Silk City

"Oh, hey, what's up, man? (packs pack of cigarettes, slides hand in back pocket, does this after every sentence) Me? Did some blow, had some PBR. Yeah bro, I love Philly, too. You know Stevie's in there killing them? Yeah, yeah, it's bad, like the tub is overflowing tonight. Good tunes. Did I mention that Wes is here. You know Wes right? Diplo? That's him obnoxiously talking on the cellie, yep. Just another guy, really down to earth. And that Spank Rock chick, Amanda, is here too. Yeah, I came like this close to f'ing her in the bathroom one night. Well, I had the drugs. But then this other chick came in, and Amanda got all uncomfortable for some reason, like I called her bluff or something. But yeah I made out with her, Amanda that is. And then I f'd the other chick. Yeah I'm that good looking. Oh shit! Can't believe he dropped this one. (The Notorious B.I.G. (Feat. Puff Daddy & Mase) - Mo Money Mo Problems, which apparently gets dropped every time as the party is called 'Mo $ No Problems' which why in the fuck is he playing this song then?) Who's hot, Who's not... Chachi... this song's so my shit. You want to go hit the floor, bro? Excellent. (New song comes on, people can't quite figure it out, then the chorus hits and everybody flips out) Ungh! What was that again? Na na na na. Sorry man this song... Ungh!... totally kicks ass... Na na na na. Yeah, Bloodbath is so next level, so unpretentious. Those fuckers that go to Kildare's shouldn't be the only ones that get to enjoy these awesome party songs from our youth... Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!... the mac dad'll make ya, the daddy mac'll make ya, kris kross'll make ya... (jumps, jumps, etc.)... Oh man I wonder what he's going to play next? (music abruptly stops, then Montel Jordan: 'This Is How We Doooooooooo It') Holy Shit, man it's like Stevie B's in my head! I am going to show this honey right here, hey honey, how I do it. Chicks love the leather pants and the $500 haircut and the $300 tattered black wife-beater and the confidence, I like to call it 'swag'. Yeah good seeing you dude, don't be such a stranger. See you here tomorrow? Good shit. Okay, hun, let's go, probably only one more song after this (by now we've got M.O.P. - Ante Up), so you better just start grinding the shit out of my cock if you want me to f you. Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! More Biggie. (Hypnotize) This is definitely the last song, babe, so make it count." (Girl: "All Philly hoes Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! ...")

I'm Going SACPOP

Get Down!

T.P.O. Presents: The Without a Doubt Best Way to Spend a Summer in Philadelphia

Something that I realized a long time ago was that the shore is stuffed full of deesh. The Philly ones are bad enough, but the New York ones... No shore for this guy. There's all this parking space in the city. And you can go out at night and easily get service, though I don't do that anymore-- go out that is, because there's no place good to go out in Philly. What the fuck am I going to do, go hear Josh Wink spin? Remember, I declared SACPOP, and if you can't figure out what that means let me explain it to you by telling you to fuck off. Got it?

Right, so nothing fun to do. What am I going to do, go to Johnny Brenda's and listen to all the pseudo-intelligentsia look good, while I suffer through three really bad Indie Rock bands, just to hear a Fujiya & Miyagi set that will probably end up being my like Medusa? Nope. What am I going to do go out to a bar to see the same people act the same way, have no conversations because they've already exhausted every possible thing to say to one another, while listening to the same songs, and try way too hard to have fun, i.e "freak out", "go philly"? Nope. Philly, I love you, but you're bringing me down. I know, all very disheartening shit, right? I'll get over it, I just need a break.

So I've taken to trying to tie up all my loose ends. I'm trying to make as much money as possible at my job, while it lasts, because I'm still broke. I've taken to finally resuming and this time finishing the I.J. which is hands down the most important thing I've ever done. I've taken to fixing all the bad habits developed in my own golf game, and I can happily report that I'm totally striping it right now, and I've taken to trying to improve my physical appearance for when I re-enter The Game.

To accomplish this last aim, I joined PSC. This isn't going to be a gym digression, it's just that one of the amenities of the membership is a private swimming pool, and it's really fucking hot out. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed going to this pool this summer. First off, the kids there are hilarious. There are these styrofoam tube floats with holes at each end out of which they squirt water in their parents' faces. They also like to beat each other up with the tubes. I'm happy that these kids are enjoying their privileged youth.

Second, there are a lot of foreign people that go to the pool, and because the sunlight is too strong, and I can't get any reading done there, I love hearing the alien tones of for example what I guessed to be Portuguese-- I mean with that body she had to be Brazilian. The foreigners are also far more polite-- they understand that the proper soundtrack for sunbathing is some John Cage, ya deeg?

But there's a flip side to that because the conversations you do overhear are too precious. Oh yeah before I go any farther, let me say that I have painstakingly counted 21 different copies of The Kite Runner at the pool. I have listened to a totally ripped and tan guy try to hit on a girl that he is easily way more attractive than, but I guess he was desperate, by striking up a conversation about reading material.

Guy: Hey, I see you here all the time. Starting a new book I see. What's it called?

Girl: The Kite Runner

Guy: Hmmm, never heard of it. What's it about? Any good?

Girl: Oh yeah, it's really well written. It's centered around (more on this later) life in Afghanistan. Just a really moving story. It's opened my eyes to how ignorant we Americans are. You know it's like there's a whole other world out there, where people are suffering. (No shit, this is what she said.)

Guy: I'll have to stop at the Rittenhouse Square (no, he really pointed this out) Barnes & Noble. I'm reading an awesome book right now. The new Dean Koontz?

Girl: ...

(5 minutes elapses)

Guy: I'm going to head, but it was nice to finally talk to you. I'm Troy. (Offers hand)

Girl: (Receiving hand) Jesse

Troy: Jesse, I'm going to need your phone number, so I can call you later tonight, to make some plans for our date on Friday night.

Jesse: Um, okay.

Back to "centered around." It's like the entirety of my time at the pool is centered on "centered around." What's funny about this pool though is that some Philly hipsters/artsy people (after all, the pool's in Society Hill) also use it. Half of the dudes under 40 have mentioned that they DJ, and I overheard some girl tell some guy who was raving about a recent Matisyahu show that she had a whatever the fuck it's called, exhibit, show?, on a First Friday (which, I know, I should experience first hand for some more material) that was "centered around post-post modernism." To which the guy responded:

Jesse, I'm going to need your phone number, so I can call you later tonight, to make some plans for our date on Friday night. You've heard of Johnny Brenda's, right?

I lay at this pool for hours at a time in utter peace, knowing that this is the place these types of conversations should happen, that these conversations should happen. It's like affability for the greater good. My PSC pool is so utterly unhip Philly that I can't help finding it the new hip Philly.