The economy is taking its toll on everybody’s love life. Marrieds: If you think your partner wasn’t putting out before, wait till you see what they’ve got in store for you once they realize you had all your money in Wachovia and Citi-Group. Couples living together: If you think your partner didn’t pay you much attention before, wait till you see how much shade his “Project Ignore” stamp is going cast on your emotional needs now. And singles: If you think finding somebody was hard before, wait till you go to the bars and see how they’ve turned into empty bowling alleys.
But the people I feel sorry for the most are gold diggers.
I mean, this housing market is the functional equivalent of date rape for them. Once, real estate was the best investment they ever made. Or rather, marrying somebody with real estate was the best investment they ever made. But now, what’s a gold-digger to do? How do you tell the house-poor from the plain poor? They’re both driving about-to-be repo’d BMWs.
“Everyone is looking for handsome, rich and charming men but there are less and less of them to go around,” says one gold digger in The NY Post’s Page Six Magazine. And here’s the London Telegraph on men cutting back on “mistress-associated costs”: “More than three-quarters of the adulterous multi-millionaire men surveyed said they planned to spend less money on gifts and treats for their lovers, and 82 per cent planned to cut their regular payments.”
One reader wrote with a great solution—-a kind of modified Heimlich maneuver: “Place your fist on his abdomen and squeeze quickly and firmly until he coughs up more cash.”
Hey, the Hermes scarf on that shelf ain’t going to buy itself…