Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Bailouts and Earmarks - Dating Style

In the idealism of romance, one is tempted to think superficial things like money don't matter. After all, it's about love and good stuff like that, not the cars, the bank account, clothes, shoes, and job title. Although with this crappy economy and Wall Street meltdown, money seems to be what a lot of us are thinking about even if it's the fact we've been losing it.

Even though it's not a pleasant thought, money can make a difference. Whether you date or meet someone who makes considerably less, or considerably more, you can't overlook the fact that financial differences can affect the tenor of a (potential) relationship.

I'm going to be frank and say I avoided broke-asses in my singledom. Period. Notice, I didn't pick a certain income level that I expect, even though I'm a professional who makes good money. I mean men who perpetually seem to be in financial turmoil.

I've met many men with various jobs who suddenly get anorexically thin wallets when a date is planned. I've suggested such relatively cheap things as a movie or a Mexican place and got responses such as, "Well, I have a financial situation," or "Not until after the first of the month."

That was cue for "Seacrest, out!" If you didn't have an extra 20 bucks at any given time, I was gone. Considering I'm in my 30s, I couldn't help but think the other guy - assuming he's around my age - could't handle his business. And I pay for things on a date because I want to, not because I have to.

My cold realism originally didn't mesh well with my egalitarianism. I want to think that we are all equals with things to contribute in very different ways. But I unabashedly steered myself to professional men. So did I unfairly marginalize six-pack Joes unlike Sarah Palin?

The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized it's not really just someone's social station or income bracket, but their behavior. I've dated men that I knew made less money then me because of their profession, but there weren't any problems because they had life goals and managed whatever they had well. We went out normally and things were equally paid. My feelings about financial discrepancy only loomed large when I thought about the big picture.

One ex bothered me because he was older and practically lived hand-to-mouth in a studio. But the thing is he had no desire for a career or even wanted to imagine what he could be doing in five years. No direction, ambition, or drive: I have those things in spades. He anticipated being taken care of. That's one of the main reasons I broke it off. I want a partner, not some who doesn't bring much to the table.

But I've had it the other way: dating six-figure-plus men whose income intimidated me a little. Sure, it's nice to be treated to a show at the Kennedy Center or a French dinner, but I didn't do that on the regular. I didn't like the idea of remotely being a kept man or not contributing enough. I dated one lawyer who liked to wine and dine and would refuse me to chip in anything. At one restaurant, I grabbed the check from the waiter to head him off.

A good friend has a boyfriend who makes mucho dinero. The boyfriend is so used to the finer things he'd suggest fancy weekend trips and foreign vacations as if he were ordering a pizza. And my friend had to gently remind him that while he made good money, he just couldn't do anything at anytime. And my friend refused to let the boyfriend just pay for it all. So they worked out a system to where costs are shared and traded.

And it reminded me that those who do make a lot more money also can be put in a difficult situation. Should they be expected to scale back the fun things they like to do to accommodate the comfort of the other who doesn't make as much. And if the well-to-do men have to end up paying for most things, does that lead to a sense of resentment - or entitlement? And if we're talking about two men - creatures with a healthy sense of pride and control - does constant financial bargaining take it's toll?

My partner is a professional who's conscientious about finances, so I scored big time. Our income levels are different but our thinking is the same in terms of sharing and striving for equality in contribution.

We can act like money doesn't mean anything, but if we've ever asked for a raise, pined for a nice car, or figured out how much to save for a house and retirement, we obviously care about finances. And why wouldn't that concern creep into our relationships?

"Money doesn't matter" is an ideal, but may not hold up to pragmatic living. Ask someone who used to work at Lehman Brothers.