Wolf Off Wall Street
A contribution from Stefana!
“hh tonight?”
I was wearing my “on Wednesdays we wear pink” sheep sweater. To be clear, sheep print sweater. But I had to start my 2016 dating life somewhere, so what the hell?
Well, it seems I’ve started 2016 from the bottom. The date lasted exactly one hour and five minutes, roughly 55 minutes too long. He did 90% of the talking (read: mansplaining).
Do I remember how many times the Lakers beat the Kings in the early aughts? Yeah, I just told you I grew up going to Kings games.
Did I know that all the secretaries in the finance industry are smoking hot? TBH, not something I’d never put much thought into.
Do I remember the scene from American Psycho where the guy is looking at himself in the rearview mirror while he’s f***ing that chick in a car? ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!
Add in a diatribe about how the two women who work in the finance part of his firm are “ball busters” and “wear the pants in their relationships,” demeaning commentary on their husbands, tales about how much blow they do in the finance industry (to be fair, my date only does blow “like twice a year”), and after a beer and half my commentary moved from “oh that’s interesting” and “actually, I did know that” to “well that’s horrendous” and “this is everything that’s wrong with America.”
I briefly considered trying to explain some basic feminist concepts on equality, but it had been a long day and, honestly, he didn’t seem worth the energy. Was that my real mistake in this situation? Have let down lady-kind by not taking advantage of this teaching moment? Am I perpetuating that status quo?
At least I’ve ruled out dating men who date in private equity.
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