I’ve dated a lot of different kinds of guys. This was brought to my attention recently at a Halloween party. It was actually an “Inter-Faith Celebratory Pumpkin Carving,”* but you get the gist.
An ex boyfriend showed up at the party, and a friend of mine got drunk (I had a bad headache while at Total Wine earlier in the day and had just randomly grabbed beer, wine, and hard cider and apparently did a fantastic job with my selections, because everyone partook heavily), and was yelling across the room “There has not been a boyfriend or husband you have had that I did not like! I liked all of them! Including—“at which point I cut him off with my eyes because I didn’t really want my younger sister to hear about ALL the men I dated. **
And my friend has a point –every single person I have dated has had at least one good point, one thing to find to like, even if that thing was only how they were in bed, or how well they made lasagna. But there’s one type of man I HATE to date, I just can’t stand it. Maybe it’s because in my line of work I run into these types of guys all the time so I grew to see through their hollow charms quickly. Maybe it’s because I was raised to think money is the root of all evil. I don’t know.
Its rich guys.
I realize, in a recovering recessive economy, saying you hate to date rich guys is just about the stupidest thing you could do. Aside from, say, eating a 670 calorie personal pizza with a glass of wine so that you tell yourself any subsequent cookies you eat don’t count because you can’t add numbers anymore so it’s all just 670!
Where was I. Oh, rich guys.
I know I’m going to get some crap for this. And I recognize there are some people who are rich and do not have these qualities…somewhere in the world, like, hanging out with unicorns and fairies. And I understand that some people who are not rich but like to think they are also may possess these qualities, and those are the same people who you know make just over minimum wage but put up Facebook pictures of how the 1% is the only group contributing to the economy.
So yes, some people may fall into this category and some may not, but lists like this are kind of like bra sizes. You might have to go up to a 36C if you’re actually a 34D and just make it fit. Because nothing else is available in the store.
Why it Sucks to Date Rich Guys
1. They want you to lose weight.
Or change, in some way. What I have experienced: suggestions for shorter, tighter clothes. Tips on how to increase my muscle tone. The only people who have suggested I grow out my hair are rich guys, because they are idiots who don’t realize if my hair is long, I’ll get it stuck in chairs, and doors, and my mouth. And I know this because I wore a long wig for Halloween.
Nothing makes me angrier, living in Scottsdale, than seeing an old, fat rich guy walking along with his lady who most certainly cannot move her lips, forehead, eyes, or potentially even their fingers, as the fingers too have been filled up with collagen and Botox to resemble Barbie hands.
Except for shivering dogs in an inside store. Take that dog out and make it run around a little to warm up!
The point is, rich men think they can buy or change anything because that’s what they do in their everyday lives. And sometimes if you push back on something (“Just got a reduction, don’t need BIGGER boobs, thanks,”) they push back because, hey, they get what they want and “no” only means you’re at the beginning of winning a negotiation, right?
2. Their political opinions suck.
A few weeks ago, I went on a date with a guy who told me he was “fiscally conservative but socially liberal.” This is the same guy who was late showing up to the restaurant because his flight back from the OC was delayed, so I should have taken the classy way out and not responded.
Instead I told him I was socially conservative but fiscally liberal. When he asked how that worked, I said “Oh, I don’t think we should have abortion, but I think all those unborn babies should go to college for free.”
He said that didn’t make much sense, to which I replied “YOUR OPINION DOESN’T MAKE SENSE EITHER, AND I WAS JOKING! THAT’S WHY THERE ARE TWO PARTIES!”
The moral of the story is, don’t show up late for a date with me, because I will have had wine, on an empty stomach, while the wait staff gives me sympathetic looks. And I will not be as sympathetic to you on your political opinions as the wait staff was to me during my stay at the restaurant.
3. They’re used to getting their way.
Remember what I said about “no” being just the beginning of a negotiation? This isn’t just true of how you look and dress, it’s true of everything in life.
Now, maybe I don’t like this trait because it is one I also happen to possess—I love getting my way. I make a point to get free things when I know I don’t need them, or discounts, or talk the cab driver into fitting 7 people into what is technically only a 4-passenger car.
However, it’s one thing to try for a discount and gracefully back off when you lose that skirmish, it is completely another thing to not leave the hotel lobby until your room is comp’d, because “don’t they know who you are,” or yell loudly “IT’S CHEATING TO YELL OUT ANSWERS TO THE OTHER TEAM” when you’re friends are trying to have a simple, quiet night of Pictionary.
4. They don’t try in bed.
Yes, men, being rich counts for something, but that doesn’t mean you can act like a starfish in bedroom. Being rich is helpful if you’re on that show where the angry dark-haired woman tries to set people up to mask her own loneliness, or it could matter if you wanted to say, remodel a house, or rent a private jet.
However (and ask anyone who has seen Dirty Dancing), the minute you get into sexy times, the size of your bank account matters not. I’m not even saying the size of your you-know-what matters; it all comes down to confidence, ability to throw down, being in-tune with what your bed-partner is thinking, feeling, and into, and so on. My Buttercup doesn’t care if your Prince Humperdinck is ridiculously loaded because all I want is the Man in Black. And yes, that could be a metaphor.
In summary, some women may be able to get off while thinking about your off-shore bank accounts, but I am not one of those people. Although it is kind of hot if you started your own successful business, but that has less to do with me being attracted to your money and more with me being attracted to your aggressive goal-setting and follow through.
5. They think “being rich” is a personality trait like a quirky sense of humor or the ability to say sweet things.
Being rich is great. It means you don’t have to worry about money, it means you could possibly affect the campaign or at least contribute to a Super PAC ad, it means people will sometimes laugh at your jokes or invite you to places because they know you have a ton of money.
Being rich is not a part of your personality. It does not make up for being interesting, or nice to people in the service industry (and yes, if you aren’t, that matters. A lot.), or make up for your lack of ability to give amazing massages.
What’s interesting to me, as I browse dating websites like OKCupid and Match.com (and I don’t, this is all hypothetical, I’m very busy), is that the guys who put in a high income don’t put in much else.
A friend of mine is guilty of this –great guy, super interesting, funny, loves techno and house music and electronic music (and knows the difference between the three), checks into the gym on Facebook, gets crazy about those reality target-shooting shows, etc. His Match.com profile? He’s a “laid back guy” who “likes sports” and wants a “girl he can be himself with.” Oh, and he makes north of $200k. He can’t figure out why the women he dates are boring.
So. Mention everything but the money. Make that a happy surprise, like when Reese Whiterspoon gets back with her ex-husband who is a rich glass-blower.
6. They don’t like back-talk.
Ahhh. This is the one where I fail. If it weren’t for this I could maybe –MAYBE—date a rich guy. Maybe.
I’m a smart aleck. I do it without meaning to. Probably 80% of the time I say something and people laugh, I’m just saying what’s in my head and didn’t realize that would be funny to others as well.
And this, ultimately, is where the rich men and I part ways. There’s a guy who works in my general industry that has a…strong interest…in me. He texts me. He IM’s me. He calls sometimes and leaves annoying voicemails saying “Hey, it’s (insert rich guy’s name), call me, it’s important.” in a really deep voice.
It ends up its not important, and then I get angry because I think it’s a work thing, and he feels like he’s winning because I called and emailed him back so I must be soooo interested.
This guy is so full of himself, he’ll call me, talk about his work and how he should be making more and how much money he brought into the company in the past quarter and says things like the below, which I actually wrote down after he said it, because it was that amazing.
“You’re undervalued now, but you need to watch that you’re not undervalued for so long you become overvalued for your undervalue, you know what I mean? …God, I’ve got to get a raise. It’s ridiculous how busy I am.”
The fact is, rich guys like women talking back to them in THEORY, but when it actually happens they turn into Sean Connery from that video in the 1970’s where he says sometimes women just need a “good schmacking.”
7. They are competitive…with other rich guys.
It’s kind of funny. Rich guys don’t even consider the fact that you might want to date or be tempted to date someone who makes less than they do. On the one hand, it’s kind of hilarious and can work to a woman’s advantage, because you can effectively date a rich guy and a not-so-rich guy at the same time with no one catching on.
On the other hand, rich guys tend to think that other rich guys you associate with are automatic competition, and when they meet a potential competitor, they start circling each other and sniffing the air like a pair of wild hyenas waiting for Scar to give them the go-ahead to fight in paw-to-paw combat.
There you have it. What you have above is (at least in part) why I don’t date rich guys. I will continue to avoid eye contact after checking out your ridiculously expensive shoes, I will roll my eyes when you name-drop a celebrity client, and I refuse to get my boobs done. Because they are wonderful.
I may regret this choice, eventually, but with the promises both parties have been making lately I’m not worried about being taken care of in my old age. Whether by voucher or death-panel, I’ll have the ability to choose my partner based off of my feelings, not based off of his pocketbook. And that’s something any senior citizen can get behind.
*I set up the Inter-Faith Celebratory Pumpkin Carving to make my younger sister feel more comfortable, as she has just moved in, and she’s …religious. Like goes-to-church-four-times-a-week-minimum religious. But it kind of backfired, she didn’t invite any church friends and all my friends ended up getting drunk and yelling things about sex anyway. At least I tried.
**My little sister has only meant the men I brought home, which was not a comprehensive selection. I did try to give my family variety while bringing home boyfriend, but it’s only a sample and nowhere near represents the actual total population.