First, make sure you've read the previous post below about "Citiboobs." Then come back here.
Okay, now for the humorous angle on all this -- again, courtesy of today's New York Times, which reports on a group of young women in New York, mostly in their mid- to late-20s, who have to console each other over the downturn in their social lives (and near-term marital prospects) as their wealthy "F.B.F.'s (Financial-Guy Boyfriends)" cut back on spending, vacationing, and the like. [See here.]
In addition to meeting once or twice weekly for brunch or drinks at a bar or restaurant, the group has a
blog [Dating a Banker Anonymous],
billed as “free from the scrutiny of feminists,” that invites women to
join “if your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle
service has all but disappeared from your life.”
Some complain that when the market has a bad day, their FBF's demand more sex; some complain that on those days, their FBFs are uninterested in sex. Ah, poor dears. And then there is this:
Once it was seen as a blessing in certain circles to have a wealthy,
powerful partner who would leave you alone with the credit card while
he was busy brokering deals. Now, many Wall Street wives, girlfriends
and, increasingly, exes, are living the curse of cutbacks in nanny
hours and reservations at Masa or Megu. And that credit card? Canceled.
Yikes! How will life go on? But -- uh, oh -- it gets worse!
Some women in the group said the men in their lives had gone from
being aloof and unattainable to unattractively needy and clinging.
Others complained of being ignored — one, who called herself A.P.,
wrote on the blog that three weeks had passed without her boyfriend
“asking a single question” about her life. Another wrote, fearfully,
that her beau had told her to make a list of their favorite New York
restaurants before the bad market forced a move to the Midwest.
“Next
time you are stressing over some finance guy, remember that he is just
a math-club nerd,” one woman wrote after recounting a breakup. “This
recession just bought everyone an extra two years of the single life.”
Oh, no! It might be another two years before I get that big diamond ring?
Being snarky about these airheads is like shooting fish in a barrel. There's no sport in it. But it sure is fun.
