I Ain’t Sayin’ She A Gold-Digger…

Tequila is usually my answer to the question, “What would possess you to do such a thing?”. Tequila and maybe peer pressure.

One heinous Wednesday lunch at the midtown restaurant where I worked, I was standing at the service bar lamenting my life as a waitress. I longed to be free to make auditioning my job and to be a working actor again. My co-worker, Joe, a sexy but angry gay Puerto Rican with a beautiful blonde afro arched an eyebrow and said “If I had what you have, I would never work again.”

He pointed down to my lady bits, smirked, and said “You could be married to some rich old man, cleaning his house and having his babies. Don’t pretend it’s not an option.” I told him that was simply ridiculous. First of all, being a gold-digger wasn’t high on my list of aspirations. Also, where would I even meet someone like that? Not that I was interested.

“Girl, there are websites where you can meet these guys. Haven’t you ever heard of sugar daddy .com or Gold-Digger .com?”

 “Oh my God, Joe, that is preposterous. Who would ever do that? Women have no pride…” My rant continued on and on as I picked up my drinks and flounced back into the dining room.

Two days later, one of my best friends from high school, Silly Squirrel, rolled into town. It was a beautiful Friday afternoon so we headed to Blockheads, the horrible Mexican chain restaurant in NYC with $3 margaritas. I wish I were there now…But I digress.

Two strong margaritas in, I tell S.S. about my exchange with Joe and how ridiculous the whole idea is. Silly Squirrel is intrigued. She was in a serious relationship and felt uncomfortable submitting herself. But she thought it would be a hoot for the singl-y Panda to throw out a little bait “as a fun experiment.”

After that many sugary, tequila-y beverages, I was fairly open to suggestion. So I pop open my computer, create a profile and use my headshot as my picture. There was a free three day trial period, so it seemed harmless.

In those three days, I had men offer me money to sleep with them, apartments to date them and salaries to go to events with them. I’m pretty sure all of these guys were married; I’m very sure they were all gross. After three days, I was ready to be off the site.

But there was no delete or discontinue command. I emailed the website several times, to no avail. I called the number listed only to find out it was disconnected. There is no way that I know of to leave this website. To this day I am online, openly acknowledging myself as a gold-digger with the headshot that I use professionally. Hopefully, one day I’ll be a famous enough actress that the press can use this information against me. Meanwhile, it’s a great story to tell at parties.

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3 thoughts on “I Ain’t Sayin’ She A Gold-Digger…

  1. Pingback: Livin’ La Vida Loca | petulantpanda

  2. Pingback: There’s a reason it’s not Called Awesome Cupid | petulantpanda

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