The Good Life -- Or Is It?
By Anonymous, special to BET.com
I only date professional athletes with big names and big dollars. You can call me a gold digger, but I'm not one. Do I take a man's finances into consideration before I will consider dating him? Yes. Would I entertain going out with a man making less than seven figures? Absolutely not. Does millionaire status guarantee a date with me? No. Unlike a gold digger, I am not a "paper chaser" because I am the one being chased. I am merely a late-20-something woman who is fortunate enough to be connected to a wealthy inner circle. As a member of this very elite clique, highly paid and successful men surround me daily.
I will only date professional athletes and my criteria is simple: 1) Money. He has to make $1 million after taxes at a minimum. 2) Status. I preferably date starters because they make more. 3) Looks. I love a man with a serious physique (although Mr. Millionaire doesn't necessarily have to be model handsome, as long as his wallet can make up for any shortcomings in the Adonis department)! What about personality? That's a four-leaf clover in my world -- an extra bonus. My dating criteria are comparable to the "4 C's" of diamonds -- cut, clarity, color and carat. You want it all, but you are willing to sacrifice the least important requirement. I'm not turning down a flawless, Grade D, 3-carat diamond -- even if it is an emerald cut. And I am not ruling out a cutie first-stringer with a $10 million contract just because he is dull, either.
My date book and social calendar reads like a "Who's Who" of professional athletes and entertainers. As a part of this world, I am privy to the best that life has to offer and I am no more than three phone calls away from any star athlete that you can name. In fact, tomorrow I've got lunch with an NBA All-Star and dinner with an NFL Pro Bowler. Honestly, I would rather lose a limb than date the average Joe. I would not consider getting involved with a working-class man whether he was a bank teller or a doctor. One of my dearest friends, who got rich during the Internet boom, is worth $2 billion dollars and I'll never give him the romantic time of day. This might be the key difference between women like me and gold diggers. A gold digger doesn't discriminate. She wants money from anyone she can get it from and she will do anything to get it! She will make a run at a professional athlete or a drug dealer indiscriminately. Socially, this woman is a mess. A gold digger considers the beauty sa
There are no special or secret requirements to acquire all of the goodies that I get from this millionaires boys club. I am dating just like any of my girlfriends or an ordinary woman does. This is not agency work or prostitution because there is no sexual trade-off involved with these athletes. Would you sleep with just any man that bought you dinner or gave you a token of affection? Neither would I. A long time ago I learned the first rule of engagement: Putting out does not increase the output. Don't get me wrong, I am not claiming to be a virgin. My sex life is hinged upon attraction and compatibility just like anyone else's. And just for your information, the second rule of engagement is that when a man doesn't give anything, then he's not getting anything either. Maybe the trade-off is that I attend games, team events, and functions with a player at least a dozen times a year. I am over-extended because my date calendar is full through the end of the year. My holidays are a whirlwind of team social a
I don't have any problems finding players that are willing to play the game. And I don't have problems keeping a man either because I follow all of the rules of engagement. The 30s are around the corner and I am not one bit concerned. A $6 million a year football player wants to marry me and a married one wants to keep me. Only an idiot or a liar wouldn't want to be me!
Where do I meet these eligible, athletically gifted, and wealthy catches? The answer is simple. I am always in the right place at the right time. Over the years, my player friends have not only introduced me to the good life but they have introduced me to their social world. As a "friend of the program," I am invited to everything from parties to games to getaways. I am not a weekend fling or the girl on the road in a visiting city.
You may attend the NBA All-Star Weekend, the Super Bowl, or any other similar event, and you might luck up and meet a player. If you do, it will more likely than not end up in a "what happens here, stays here" hook-up situation. On the other hand, I will attend the same event as the guest of a player. You'll see me with your coveted player and other players afterwards when we go to dinner or to a club. And you might catch me on the flight to Hawaii or at the game next week. What makes women like me more desirable than the next woman?&nb
There are definite perks to my life: tickets to games, VIP party invites, and shopping sprees. Jewelry, vacations, and no bills to pay are nice extras, too, but these are not real luxuries --they are mandatory. I have a personal shopper at Gucci (Smooches Donatella!), a housekeeper, and a personal assistant. If a player doesn't pay for things for me up front and I pay any money out of my own pocket, I always recoup that money from one of them later on. I love my spa days and my favorite jaunt is a weeklong holiday that I treat my girlfriends to every year. In my world, Bebe is for beginners, one carat is an insult, and the idea of Coach gives me a rash. I consider Manolo Blahnik to be a godsend, The Cheesecake Factory as fast food, and 12th-row seats as just unacceptable.
One of these days, you might see me in my Gucci pantsuit and stilettos sitting with this year's MVP in the VIP. If you do cross my path, then you should know that I love my life. I am treated like a princess, I have a superior dating pool, and I am enjoying the finer things in life. I have lost nothing while gaining everything. You can hate me because you think that I am an opportunist who is out for the quick payoff. But what you really hate is the fact that I am beautiful, pampered, and content with my lifestyle. Or maybe you will hate me because you would love to be me if you could.
