Reality of dating a banker
I've been on a few dates with men who work in "finance" — as in, they can't explain to me in 10 words or less what it is exactly that they with all those numbers and dollar signs (and hey, as a creative girl who writes for a living, I'm not about to ask them to elaborate).
Even the Times story’s headline — “It’s the Economy, Girlfriend!
” — looked like it belonged on the chick lit aisle at Barnes & Noble, and the DABA site’s language of welcome — “if your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle service has all but disappeared from your life” — sounded like a pitch for a 2003 television series.
What they prove is that the insanely long hours, pressure and overall crazy nature of the industry strips these poor fellas of the social cues and norms that by which the rest of us live our daily lives.
It also seriously screws up their ability to relate to other people.
These were men, the DABA girls told the Times, who were now having problems getting it up, who could no longer take them to fancy dinners, who threatened to move out of New York, or whose frayed nerves required care and tending (ew! “It’s not what I signed up for,” beauty writer Dawn Spinner Davis sniffed to the Times about her new “private wealth manager” husband’s recent need for nurture.