I’m in Pittsburgh through Saturday on a feature at Blush. Nevermind that I said I’d be in Philly. That was a half-truth at best. It turns out my layover was in Philly. I figured it out around 4am as I was loading my luggage to head to the airport. I looked up my itinerary online to make sure everything was running on time. It was. And so was the mysterious second leg of my flight that took me on to Pittsburg. So here I am
I’m on the constant hunt for that retirement city. Not retirement like AARP and the attached discounts but retirement like I don’t need to live in LA for porn anymore. I have a list of requirements that gets longer when it should be getting shorter but Pittsburgh so far is fitting the bill. Not super expensive. Check. Not super fashion conscious. Check. Actually has 4 seasons. Check. Moms still run across streets holding their kids’ hands. Check. Downtown is cool and the streets are clean. Check. No intense racial divide. Check. And there is still stuff to do. Check.
As a bonus their construction workers are all hot. This is promising. Imagine what all the other employed citizens look like. It’s Friday morning so they’re in hiding behind desks and stack of paperwork but they’re out there. And their drug dealers are even friendly. Usually drug dealers are mean, or at least that’s the impression I get from the movies.
How do I know their drug dealers are friendly? Well one came into the club last night and he’s a big fan. He told me he did construction. He threw hundreds of dollars in ones on the stage. He told me his name was DJ or RJ or JR or something vague and asked if I liked his Gucci shoes. He told me he loves to gamble and just got back from Vegas and showed off his Louis Vuitton sunglasses… that he’d been wearing in the dark club at midnight the whole time. Then he asked if I liked to party and how I liked his Gucci jeans. I told him I sucked at partying. He asked if I knew what he was talking about and tipped me another few hundred. I said yes. And I suck. I’m the lamest partier in the history of partiers. Let it rest. He asked if I liked his Gucci jacket. He said he’d come back tomorrow.
So long story short even the hardened criminals are nice and Pittsburgh is now on my list of potential porn retirement cities. The end