Digging for Gold

I have a confession to make. I think I am a gold-digger. I never really thought about it until my date last night with a new boy from nerve.com.

The date started off ok, with drinks and dinner at the yummy Asia de Cuba (GREAT lobster potstickers!). Christian was a perfect gentleman--cute, handsome, German, and rich. Despite the fact that he was only 27, which is normally a no-no for me--I only date over 30, Christian owned several companies and was rolling in the green goods. I knew all this beforehand, of course, because he had met my criteria and made it to date status. Let's put it this way--I only answer online ads from Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, or anyone else that makes over six figures. And yes, there are some dating sites that tell you that. Is this wrong? I started to question myself and my motives as Christian began to babble on about the German beer fest. I could see his lips moving, but frankly, I really was more interested in the hottie at the next table and was trying to meet his eye. When that didn't work, I asked myself if I would consider seeing Christian again. I mean, he was decent and all, but hey, that doesn't cut it--he wasn't dynamic, funny, spiritual, or any of the things that I look for when searching out a good man with boyfriend potential. But he was rich. I came to the realization that the only reason I was laughing at his mediocre jokes and resting my fake bossoms on the table was because he was money. He went to all the cool parties, hung with celebs, and oh yes, his aunt is the lead singer from Roxette ("Listen to your heart..."). Had this boy been a teacher, a police officer, an an aspiring actor, or any other respectful, yet average paying career person, would I REALLY be that interested? Honestly, no.

Am I a gold-digger? Has it come to that? Am I that shallow???? But then, I think to myself, ok, would HE be really taking ME out like this if I were not a five foot ten model? If I were 50 lbs overweight? Hmmmm....who was using whom in this situation? This city is laden with fat, old, disguisting men dining and sleeping with twenty year old bimbos....Go to any Jean Georges restaurants and you will see for yourself. Can we say sugar daddy? Or arm candy? It goes both ways. I have a very rich friend who says he cannot know who his true friends are because he never knows if they ahang with him for the money. Likewise, do any of the men I date actually like me for my stellar personality? Or my goofy magic tricks at the dinner table? Good question.

I have always seemed to date affluent men and always figured it was just by chance that the men I dated had at least SOME money. Or was I subconciously seeking them out? My drawers are full little blue jewelry boxes and other gifts from men. I have gone on trips, been bought clothes, and even had one suitor who bought me a videocamera, a laptop, a flatscreen TV and more....GASP! WAS HE MY SUGAR DADDY!? But I wasn't sleeping with him.... I have grown a bit since then and know I wasn't living honestly and can no longer accept such gifts. I had to tell him to stop (painfully, oh so painfully....) I digress. My point is, from then on, even though I now know there is more to a man than his wallet, I ask myself, does it hurt if he has a wonderful soul AND a fat wallet? Do I really need a man who can afford a lavish lifestyle? Hmmm....this is what I intend to find out.

So, in the spirit of Sober's 'experiements' I am going to take two different dating routes and then analize my results. I am going to put up a profile on sugardaddy.com (yes, there is such a thing, check it out!~) where everyone is out in the open about what they are looking for, in hopes of actually finding a mate. To counteract this, I am also going to eliminate anyone who makes over 50K on another site. I am going to log the details of the dates to tell the differences between they types of men and also to see just how much money means to me in finding my perfect mate. Should make some good stories!!!!

Oh, and the date with Christian ended up pretty nice, with a walk home (despite the fact we were attacked by hoodlums-simply were in the way of a robbery and got knocked down!) I might give it another shot to see if he wasn't on his A game-- *wishful thinking??**

Labels: Boy Stories, Carpe