The Impromptu Date With A Rich Woman

[Editor's Note: This is post is fairly long and a man with some Game knowledge can spot it in this narrative.]

I was up late this past Saturday night because of terrible anxiety over money, the time change to daylight savings, and a two hour nap earlier that evening. I think it was past 5AM before I finally went to sleep.

At 10AM on Sunday my phone vibrated with a new text message. It woke me up. It was from Theresa (name changed), a woman I started a correspondence through the Plenty of Fish online dating website. We’ve been having a desultory online correspondence on Facebook for the past six weeks or so.

“I may be heading to your area for the hell of it. What r u doing today? Want to meet?”

We have never met in person.

She lives about an hour and fifteen minutes away so previously I was not too keen on escalating to an actual meeting; hence, the desultory nature of our correspondence. In the course of our online correspondence I was a bit arrogant and at one point, “mean” to her for which I did not apologize. Yet the correspondence continued. We even talked on the phone at one point. She has no kids and that’s a plus for me.

I responded to her about 30 minutes later after I completed the morning’s routine. “We can meet up. Keep me posted.” There was nothing definite from me. I assumed she was going to flake.

A minute later, “I will.” There was some texting back and forth about where to meet in my in my vicinity. There was an art fair in the village where I live and parking was extremely limited except at my place, a three minute walk from town center and the vendor tents where the tourists were flocking to buy stuff. Such events are perfect for dates.

I texted my address for her GPS and she confirmed right away that she would come to my place later in the afternoon. Damn, I might have a date. I was certainly not prepared for a date. My place was kind of messy and my hair was pitiful. I’m was also not willing to spend a single dime until without a solid writing contract or permanent work.

On the phone, Theresa didn’t come across as particularly bright or classy. Her sentences were riddled with curse words and her accent was thick, Southside Chicago. Her online dating profile photo showed an attractive blond with a good figure. She actually looked skinny. That’s a rarity for a woman over 40 on Plenty of Fish. She never mentioned a job in our correspondence or on the phone. She claimed that she volunteered for something or other while living in a very upscale sub-division in her city. She’s independently wealthy, this much I am sure.

I performed some strategic cleansing of my apartment and my body in anticipation of a visitor. Honestly, I was not thinking about seducing this woman. There are too many unpleasant distractions in my life to deal with before I consider any type of serious dating. I just wanted to meet her, nothing more.

Theresa arrived at about 3PM. She called a few moments before arriving so I could direct her to the proper parking space. She was driving a very large BMW. I know that it’s an expensive vehicle; I’m just rather apathetic to the material trappings of status. She was dressed casually and didn’t look so bad. Age adjusted, she’s a 7. She was indeed slender but with a bit of a belly. Her face was attractive and with compelling light blue eyes.

The date commenced after she put her bags in my place so they were not in her car. It was because of the handgun in her handbag. That didn’t faze me at all. We walked over to the art fair. She was impressed by the convenience of my apartment and it’s close proximity to the beach and the vaguely quaint – by Florida standards – village center.

We walked down toward to the beach and I pointed out the sights and attractions of my wee ‘burg which was overrun with tourists, spring breakers, and art fair attendees. She loved it and made many compliments about the town. “Have you eaten?” she suddenly asked me. I replied that I haven’t. The thought of a $40 meal was financially unappetizing to me. “Let’s have lunch, I’m buying.” Excellent! I eagerly accepted without hesitation. Even if this date goes nowhere, I’m getting a free meal and free beer. I knew where to go for lunch, the nice restaurant not 50 feet away; not too expensive but with good food.

The wait for a table was about ten minutes. Small talk ensued between Theresa and me.  I remember her saying that is was my job to give her compliments. “I’m not letting you fish for compliments again” was my response. She gave me a mock pout then smiled. Ah, the predictability of women.

Once seated, we had a good lunch. Unfortunately, Theresa’s conversation was neither witty nor particularly interesting. She talked a great deal about herself and how smart and clever she was. I asked questions about her background. She came from a political family in Chicago, South Side and is of Italian extraction. It was not easy to tell how she made her money but at the admission that she only did “some” college and that she had a high-paying job at 21 while living a fine life in her twenties, I was thinking spoiled daddy’s girl. She confirmed it a few minutes later by admitting such.

The random curse words, limited vocabulary, and poorly constructed statements continued. I didn’t talk too much about myself. There was just one single question to me as an interruption to the entire ego-driven Theresa monologue. Thankfully, the beer was good and so was the food so the date was not a total loss. She was full of nervous energy, shifting her body and gesticulating greatly as she spoke. I asked if she was indeed nervous. “Nope, it’s just who I am” she replied.  She later revealed that jumping into her car and visiting a man whom she had never met was quite out of character for her. Ah, she was nervous. She did pay for lunch. I didn’t even offer the split the tab.

After the very late lunch, we walked down the lane with art vendor display tents on both sides. It didn’t take but a few minutes before she dropped a few hundred bucks on arty clothes. She had me count the money from her billfold – lots of cash she was carrying.  Ironically, she stated “That’s why I need a man around, to help me with my money.” The money wasn’t the issue, it was the need to have someone take the lead and help her with her life. She dropped several hints about her money. I never took the bait. In fact, I never once uttered anything about money, mine or hers.

The indicators of interest were strong; again with the hand-holding and the touching. It was flattering, of course. As the event was wrapping up and the vendors were closing their booths (tents), we walked back to my place. There were questions from her regarding the houses in the neighborhood. In particular, she was curious about the very large town homes next to my modest single story apartment building. “How much are those?” she asked and then requested that I find out who is selling them. I perceived this as both her attempt at proving value to me and also an indicator of interest.

Back at my place, we sat on opposite ends of the sofa. I wasn’t looking to apply any Game. There was no attempt at seduction. We chatted randomly. During that conversation, one comment seized my attention. I can’t quote it verbatim because her thoughts were rather disjointed. She mentioned that a fellow of large financial means was pursuing her. She rejected him because his pickup truck was older and squeaky. A trust fund guy was he, fifty million being his net worth. “If he can afford it, he shouldn’t be driving a car like that.” I carefully questioned that without being confrontational. It turns out the fellow’s frugality was not the issue, he was simply creepy to her and his squeaky old pickup truck was her poorly veiled excuse at rejection.

Theresa made the statement that men are intimidated by her. I don’t see how this can be. She’s a determinedly blue collar woman from the South Side of Chicago without any sophistication nor a whiff of critical thinking unless it was on the subject of Theresa. Perhaps they are intimidated by her wealth. She complimented herself quite often. “I can do all sorts of things at the same time.” That sounded like more like “I’m a ditzy, flighty blond”. This was both ego centrism and an attempt at proving her worth to me.

The date was winding down. Still there were indications of interest. I kissed her on her closed lips as she was in her car before she departed. I received some texts as she was driving home. I responded, yet not immediately. Texting while driving is famously stupid and I was not going to encourage it. My last text to her was “drive fast and dangerously”.

A few hours later I received a text from her indicating that she had returned safely. I called her at her request a couple of hours later. We talked for a little while and I found out more. She has been divorced for 17 months (she knew the exact number of months) and was married for almost 20 years. She loves her Pekinese dog. She’s in therapy with both a psychologist and a life counselor. “I’ve been engaged or married my whole life and I’m working on myself.” I have a suspicion that this means being even more solipsistic.

I strongly suspect that Theresa has not earned her money but rather acquired it by some other means, perhaps a fat divorce settlement or a trust fund of some sort. If she earned it, I would not be a potential match because my achievements are not about money. Her attraction to me is the hypergamy of class and intelligence. I was raised to be an over-educated SWPL. Theresa  likely sees me as an “up” regarding a potential relationship because of this.

Clearly Theresa is not serious relationship material. She’s got an element of batshit crazy in her. My date with her yesterday was a very good exercise in analysis and human dynamics in the context of dating and relationships. Women aren’t mysterious creatures. They are human and as human, predictable if one has the knowledge.

Posted by theprivateman on March 14, 2011

http://theprivateman.wordpress.com/2011/03/14/the-impromptu-date-with-a-rich-woman/