A few years ago a mentor told me I wasn’t living up to my potential. We were at the mall. I’d tried on a pair of bright blue pants which showed off my (very nice) ass and then we went to the food court to talk about goals. She was much older than me. “If you want to do all these things,” she said, “Why not find a rich guy?” I asked how old. She said older than 35. “Gross,” I said, and she told me that he’d take care of me especially if I had his kids. He would support my dreams. If both parties were satisfied, she said, then love would come.
I don’t have moral objections to that. If a rich man and a hot woman choose to convene on those terms alone then I wish them many years of Cialis and happiness. But the thing is, if a guy’s made millions of dollars he’s pretty smart. It’s hard to believe that some chick or a pretty gay boy could pull one over on him.
First off, the man’s spent decades developing his skill. He’s one of few people who can do what he does. You, on the other hand, are one attractive person out of at least several dozen that he could choose from. That’s your currency. If he married you just for that then he’ll leave you just for that. Golddiggers can make out well in divorce, but you could waste fifteen years of your life. Are you going to put a price tag on your twenties or is it worth something more than that?
I know two people who married for money. Neither of those marriages worked out well. In one case they couldn’t deal with each other anymore. In the other he completely controlled the money. She ended up having to work anyway, which defeats the whole point.
I thought about making a profile on SeekingArrangement.com. I’m not super hot or anything, but any decent-looking woman can probably find someone on there. But something about it just creeps me out. A mistress is a therapist who fucks. I hope these people invest their monthly allowance so they can give up that lifestyle before they get too old to attract a benefactor.
Some people have the finesse to trade sex for cash more delicately. Like having intermittent sex with some guy you met at an art function and keeping in moderate contact with him over time, ensuring he is charmed enough by you to introduce you to the right people. (Assuming, of course, that he is who he says he is.) I don’t think I could pull that off though. I think I’d hook up with him a few times, then I’d say something he didn’t like and he’d decide he didn’t want to help me after all.
I went on a date last year with a handsome older man who happened to be a pretty successful writer. I was self-conscious the whole time. I said something about how Fifty Shades gets to the bottom of what women want because her hormones jumped out of her body and wrote it for her. I thought I sounded so clever, but he just smirked knowingly at me like I was one silly, predictable girl out of twenty that he could have taken out that night.
I emailed him last. I deliberately kept it short because I knew I would run out of things to say. And it’s not like he didn’t appreciate my intelligence. He was hot too. I would have had sex with him anyway. But I don’t know how I would have utilized that connection without coming off like an entitled hooker.
Women who have sex to get ahead can have pretty cool lives. The official court mistress was one of the most fortunate people in eighteenth-century France. She got to set trends and hang out with artists while the Queen pumped out syphilitic children. In ancient Greece, the only women who got to party were the demimondaine. Coco Chanel was a kept woman too.
On the relationship end of things, Vivienne Westwood wouldn’t have gotten famous if she hadn’t been with that guy from the Sex Pistols. If I were single I guess I’d try to meet successful men and hope I fell in love with one of them. I’d still have to do the work. But smart businesspeople use every option that’s available to them. I feel like a fool sometimes for not taking advantage of the advantage I was given.