Time Share

He is what my mother would call, a promising prospect. Factors leading up to this decision are as follows: he's tall, no kids, has his own place / car / job, has no *known* mommy issues, and makes $150,000+ per year.

I have to tell you that salary is not the first quality I look for in a man. Attractive, self-sufficient, considerate, romantic, intelligent and funny are all on my top list of priorities. But paycheck? Never occurred to me.

Until my mother pointed out the dating website www.wealthymen.com

I know what you're thinking. Gold digger's dream come true. Men must have their salaries verified while girls must have only their appearance verified. Yup, you read that right. If you wanna meet a man who can afford to take you wherever you want to go, you better believe he has the right to make sure you are really cute. Think about it: who wants an ugly trophy wife? No one. Best leave that trophy home on the mantle piece. I'm taking out a hot blonde trophy instead!

I know what you're thinking. But Kim, you ARE a hot blonde!!! (Modest, aren't I???) And yet, I did not make the cut for a premium listing on wealthymen.com. The reason? Not one of my profile pictures shows cleavage, but I'm welcome to take new photos and reapply. *Sigh*

As I am unwilling to pimp myself out like a soft core porn star for a night on the town with someone simply because they can afford it, I sulked back to my FREE dating sites. Yes, I said FREE. (I know a good deal when I see one!) Lo and behold, there was a message waiting there for me and it was from a man whose salary read $100,000 - $150,000 per year. Ho. Ly. Crap... Motherload!!!!

I would like to add at this point in the story that he also had nice pictures, a stable family life and no grammatical errors in his emails. None. (Score one for spell check!)

We meet in the city and he takes me for a walk down 5th Avenue. For those of you non-New Yorkers, this is like the Rodeo Drive of the East Coast. Shopping, shopping, and more shopping, NONE of which a full time writer such as myself could afford. Yet this was his home turf. He was happy to have me by his side, chatting away as afternoon turned to evening, looking in every shop window, commenting on what he thought I'd look good in. (Not gay. I don't think.)

We come to the corner where Tiffany meets Cartier and he asks me which I prefer. Seeing as I have a bit of a Holly GoLightly complex where my jewels are on a $10 budget, I say Tiffany's. (Bonus points if you get the Audrey Hepburn reference. Put the movie on your Netflix NOW if you don't!)

I don't have a clue about Cartier aside from it being, for lack of a better word, posh. He jokes and says he just wants to know where to shop for me...you know...in the future...the way distant future... Apparently his last girlfriend was very particular about jewelry and demanded certain things from certain stores with certain labels. I'm SO not like that. I'm the exact opposite of that. He mentions having to sell the ring he'd gotten his previous fiancee. (He had a broken engagement a year and a half ago. Found her in bed when he got home. With another man. Gross.) I exclaim that he should sell the ring right now and we'll take a trip to the Bahamas. His words to me: "Honey, when I sell this ring, we could take 12 trips to the Bahamas."

No joke.

He goes on: "But why would you want to go to the Bahamas when my time share is in the Dominican Republic?"

I'm sorry, could you repeat that please? I seem to have birds singing in my ears.

"Yeah, I've got a time share in the DR, Spain, and a couple other places around the world. I can choose 6 weeks pretty much any place I like. So where would you want to go?"

Speechless. Absolutely speechless. This is a man who wouldn't let me pay for my own iced tea off of a cart which 5 minutes ago I thought was generous. But vacations around the world? Eat that wealthymen.com!!!!!

We walk another block in silence as I absorb what he's told me so far. We sit for a moment in front of the Plaza Hotel, one of the coolest spots in the city. I stare dreamily into the distance when he asks what I'm thinking. I say that someday, I would like to have afternoon tea at the Plaza. It's been my vision for a while now. He asks when I'd like to do it. I tell him probably for a special occasion, like my 30th birthday or something. (Shudder thinking about it.) He says "No, when would you like to do it? My time share extends to the Plaza. I'm sure we could stay there and have tea whenever you like. Just let me know so I can make reservations."

Hello?!? First date!?!

Before I can interject this logic he politely offers, "You'd have your own room, of course." Then he shyly looks away.

Hmmm, there may be something to these men with money. Stay tuned kids!!!