“I had an older brother, but he was never a brother to me," Jeanne Safer writes. "We spent our childhoods at the same address with the same biological parents, ate dinner at the same table every night, and even shared a room for a few years at first, although we never shared a single confidence while we occupied it.”
Rather than having a panic attack over the very real possibility of putting the nuclear button in the hand of a political novice who never ran for office, practiced law or served in the military, let’s take a deep breadth and look at the other ways to put experienced professionals where they belong. In the unemployment line!
Without washing the tears off my face, I rushed back down to the street and jumped in a cab. I needn’t have bothered with the erotic lingerie. It came off too quickly for him to notice. Xavier and I drank Champagne and ate moo shu pork naked in bed. I looked at the clock. It was 2 a.m. Thank God. Valentine’s Day was over.
In the late 1960s, Grandma still had flapper dresses tucked in her closet, and she showed up to work at her Center City pharmacy attired like a silent-film star. Her penny-pinching had nothing to do with her finances. By all standards, Grandma was loaded.
"Librarians aren’t allowed to exhibit any emotion other than politeness," mild-mannered Roz Warren notes in her hilarious new book about the peccadillos of patrons in the Bala-Cynwyd library. "Not even when patrons curse, refuse to pay fines, or use cherry-flavored condoms for bookmarks."
On the arrival of the first warm days of spring, Rittenhouse Square, the poshest piece of real estate in the city, turns into a beach as office workers and students spread out blankets and strip down to, well, their tattoos.