Money

Ok, doesn't it seem like a matter of common sense that someone who has chosen a profession where they will never make any money (such as teaching) is probably not money-oriented, unless they are stupid? Tell me then, why my friend would try to set me up with someone whose entire life revolves around how much he spent on SHIT? My friend, who will hereafter be known as "Bitch", invited me to a cookout because she wanted me to meet this guy her husband worked with. Now, I explained to Bitch that while David (her hubby) is a very nice man, he's an ACCOUNTANT, and dull, even by accountant standards. If I'm going to have a steamy summer fling, I'd like it to be with someone interesting and/or exciting, right? So, I am introduced to said co-worker, whom I shall call "Blah", and the first thing he does is show me his car. It's some sort of SUV, which immediately makes me think "gas hog". When I smile and politely say "it's nice", he seems disappointed, so proceedes to tell me how much it cost! First of all, that is fucking TACKY. Secondly, if you tell me that you paid that much for something without a basement and running water, I not only think you're tacky, I also think YOU ARE AN IDIOT! He must have mistook my look of disgust and horror for interest, because he proceeded to tell me about his new house in [the newest, snottiest subdivision around], how much it cost, AND THEN, bragged to me how they worked hard to keep "undesirables" out of the neighborhood. Never one to keep my mouth shut, I innocently asked who was deemed "undesirable". He stammered a little then gave me some crap about "people who would commit crimes". I was intrigued, and asked if Miss Cleo was now sitting on the neighborhood association, so she could tell them exactly WHO was going to commit crimes. He laughed, like he didn't realize that I was on the fast track to loathing him. All through dinner, he talked about money- how much he spends on things, how much he'll have accumulated in fifteen years, when he can retire, who makes less than him... It was, quite possibly, the worst dinner I've ever had that didn't involve my family. Afterward, I made an excuse to get out of there fast, shooting Bitch the evileye on my way past. Blah decides to walk me to my car (Ford Escort). He actually said, "I think we've really hit it off, don't you? I don't have a pen on me, but I'll get your number from [Bitch}, and give you a call". I imagined us on a date, visiting the vault with his money in it, maybe swimming in it, a la Scrooge McDuck (Donald's uncle). I couldn't take any more, I began ranting crazily about how with the money he spent on that car, he could have fed and clothed an entire village of Tibetan refugees for several years, and about the environmental and human toll that using all that gas was costing. As I was getting to the "undesirables" he was working so hard to keep out, he said, "you're nuts", and walked away.

Please don't get me wrong: I firmly believe that everyone has the right to spend their money in any way they choose. I also really think that we all have to treat ourselves to something special sometimes. But, DEAR GOD, know your audience before you spread out your financial statements! Perhaps if I were some bimbo who was impressed by the Rolex on his wrist (he pointed this out- was less impressed when I pointed out "Timex" on mine), this would have been an appropriate conversation. However, I am an intelligent, socially conscious human being who does not bow down to the Money Gods. Maybe I AM nuts, or maybe I'm a freak, as has often been suggested. Whatever the case, I can't help but think that there are others like me out there who buy things because they like them, and not to impress strangers at BBQs. Bitch called to apologize. I let her do it on the machine: I'm not calling her back for a while.