Archive for the ‘Gold-Diggers’ Category

In more affluent demographics, female trainers are the most sought after commodities in the human food chain, particularly for middle-aged men.

Why wouldn’t they be?

A prerequisite for employment at most upscale health-clubs is a college degree in something like Kinesiology.

So they’re educated, which is more than you can say for most strippers.

Second, they’re super ridiculously fit, unlike most wives.

And third, they have healthy lifestyle habits, so [in your mind, anyway] you won’t have to chase them down at nightclubs and pool parties at 3 in the morning.

The fantasy is a supercharged version of the woman you met at Dartmouth 25 years ago. An upgrade from the standard 6-speed to PDK with more horsepower and better suspension.

All female trainers in these environments are keenly aware of this fantasy and leverage it like a hammer of the gods.

This is why the lion’s share of clients for these women are men over 40 — and sometimes women who want to save their marriages.

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Postscript: The types of men and women trainers attract has everything to do with presentation.

Trainer Stereotytpes and the Clients They Attract

1] Super hot 25 – 32 year-old female.

Clients: Men over 40

2] Chiseled man of color with attitude.

Clients: Attractive young females who know he knows how to get them in the kind of shape they want to in in to attract men like him…or him as the case may be.

3] Male or female bodybuilder.

Clients: Men and women interested in sculpting and putting on some mass.

3] Older male or female trainers without no other agenda than keeping their clients out of emergency rooms.

Clients: Normal, well-adjusted men and women over 40 who see the big picture rather than a subplot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many recently-divorced, older men think I’m exhibiting signs of delusion when I assign military metaphors to the world of dating.

They simply see a beautiful young woman who, by chance, is sitting next to them at an upscale hotel bar, is two years older than their youngest daughter, claims to have a Masters Degree in Biochemistry from Colgate, and loves Ritz Carlton properties. Period.

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Such men hail from the generation that ushered in the era of Woodstock, Flower Power, VW buses – and eventually – stock brokers.

It was also responsible for the skyrocketing sales of Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, Erectile Dysfunctions medications and Xanax, which was created by Upjohn Laboratories of Kalamazoo, Michigan in the early 70′s to help with hallucinogenic  flashbacks.

But as this generation aged, it remained in perpetual adolescence through the leveraging of wealth and power in exchange for youth, beauty, and of course, relevance.

This mindset gave rise to virulent new strain of female opportunist obsessed with fine dining, first class travel and 5-star hotels.

It was a new food chain where older men and younger women battled for dominance over commodities.

In many cases, however, older men weren’t equipped for battle. To them, it was life as it once was, only this time with more cash.

They simply had no idea they were in the middle of a war zone, like children playing in a bombed out schoolyard with big holes in the ground and live ordinance sitting in sandboxes.

This is what’s referred to as a “soft target.”

You guys see is a beautiful young woman sitting next to you, who, for some reason, is two years older than their youngest daughter and swears she has a Masters Degree in Biochemistry from Colgate.

That’s the first salvo, a maneuver otherwise known as the set-up.

She tells you something she knows you want to hear, but even more importantly, want to believe.

This is the real hook: what you want to believe. It’ll soften up your fat ass for the ultimate slaughter by allowing her access to your deepest recesses, which aren’t particularly deep as it turns out.

Some people refer to it as a suspension of disbelief; something one experiences when watching a movie. You go along with it. You get drawn in. And then it ends.  Conversely, when applying this mindset to a certain ilk of living human female, you go along with it. You get drawn in. And then you’re fucked. That’s the difference between a movie and reality; something lost on men who blur the lines.

Never mind that she has no traceable past, or that she is in possession of two driver’s licenses with two different names but the same picture, or a rap sheet and post office box.

Once the concrete hardens [belief becomes fact] it forms the foundation of a merciless assault.

There is no reasoning with these individuals. They crave the attention, the relevance…and the sex. The rest they deal with down the road. Many of these men are simply sex addicts with time on their hands to immerse their lives in the addiction. They’re so strung out on the endorphins they often come across as incoherent in the face of what is obvious to everyone around them.

Most of these women are just looking for a temporary respite from the storm. They know that men their own age won’t tolerate their insatiable appetite for self-gratification, so they take advantage of affluent older men who will. Women are also fortunate in that they have the ability to overlook physical flaws, or outward signs of aging, which makes them uniquely adapted to this form of strategery.

What men in these relationships don’t see is that while they’re intoxicated with the drug of youth, beauty and the fantasy of relevance, they are in the midst of implosion.

It happens in a similar way to sex addiction where the addict disappears for hours on end while his kids are at little league looking for their dad. Suddenly his family life suffers, as the splitting of lives hardens. One morning they get a phone call from the family attorney that hubby’s been arrested for soliciting prostitutes. In many cases it’s Merrill Lynch calling to say that they have to close his account because there’s nothing in it.

This is why most junkies die prematurely.

Unfortunately for those who don’t, they must go on long after the madness has taken permanent residence, and the woman who gave them their blessed gifts is now living with his stock broker.

Disclaimer: Not all young women are deceitful and opportunistic. Some actually enjoy the company of older men for obvious reasons. And many end up marrying and bearing children with them. It is also true that not all young men these days are jaded, self-absorbed, narcissistic, untrustworthy, disrespectful and overtly opportunistic when it comes to harvesting the spoils of generational feminism. But handsome and driven exceptions are hard to find, and for women who waited until their middle 30’s to marry, these men are virtually non-existent, hence, the older man.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pDkK2xN1Tc0[/youtube]

The following is yet another paraphrased, embellished, or otherwise, vastly improved iteration of an actual conversation between two women at a Houston wine bar.

S: They never see you coming, do they? 
    
GD: These men want a fix; a higher high. A faster car. A more expensive home. They want it all because they think they deserve it all. I’m just the facilitator. 
    
S: Meaning you con them under the pretense of what? Love?
  
GD: They don’t see it that way. They like the chase; pretense or no pretense.

S: My customers get exactly what they pay for because they know what I’m selling.
 
GD: Maybe that’s all your customers can afford. Rich, powerful men like a challenge. They like to imagine that they have you…even if they don’t. That’s the hook. The fantasy makes them feel alive. For that, I get my needs met; all without having to pole dance.
 
S: Let me see if I understand this: You’re saying that men are fully aware of your motives, but go along with the game because it turns them on; which in turn makes you feel validated for lying? 

GD: When you dance for your customers, you pander to their fantasies in some way. But in the end, you don’t give a shit about anything but their money.
          
S: I’m not a prostitute. I don’t turn tricks for cash. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. The men who come in to see me know exactly what they’re getting into. 

GD: A bit self-righteous of you to think that stripping has more dignity than marrying for money. At least the guy gets something back; which is more than I can say for your twenty dollar lap-dances…not to mention the fact giving birth is often a sacrifice I have to make for keeping the money coming in.

S: When my clients pay twenty dollars for a lap dance, they get a lap dance. Not a baby. That’s my job. At least I’m upfront about it.
   
GD: It’s all the same. Everyone has to make a living one way or another. Our approaches are different, that’s all.

S: You know it’s interesting the way you spin this conversation into a referendum on moral relativism. There’s a distinction between telling a wealthy man that you’re in love with him, and telling him that what you’re referring to is his money.

GD: You do exactly the same thing.

S: In a strip club! As opposed to some country club you don’t belong to; but somehow manage to frequent.
    
COMMENT:  There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to admitted to by wealthy men. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination delusion fueled by pathological narcissism. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.      
 
                   

As most of you are well aware, successful men will not be seen in public with an unattractive woman.

First, they’re men. Second, they’re successful men, which usually means that they expect to succeed at winning trophies for their efforts. This is not an exaggeration. In certain regions of the world, people parade around with their goats to showcase their wealth, and that wealth always gets them the hottest female in the village…whether she likes it or not. The same psychology applies here. The guy with the most “goats” will not tolerate an out-sized ass because he deserves one that is tighter and rounder. A fat one is simply not acceptable under any circumstances. Remember, you are WORTHLESS [in this context] without a perfect body. Don’t even think about arguing with me on this one.

Okay, so YOUR workday begins when you hit the gym. This is where you do what you have to do to get that home in Aspen.

In addition to your physical training, you must also stay on top of your manicures/pedicures, hair, skin, teeth…and clothing. And did I mention education? No, I didn’t…and for good reason. You don’t have one, so you have to pretend. There are men who will see through a loosely veiled veneer, and though some will find this compelling on a base level [a good way to earn some extra money], the real whales won’t bite unless you have more polish. See, they assume if THEY can’t out you, their idiotic business acquaintances won’t be able to, either. However, if you happen to have an ass from hell – AND can talk a good game – you may get a slight pass on the polish.

Okay, do NOT bleach-fry your hair. If it is not smooth and silky, make it smooth and silky. If your skin looks like hell, find a dermatologist and lock yourself in your apartment until you can get a handle on it. NEVER EVER chew gum in public. Men will just assume you’re a stripper. NEVER EVER overkill a fashion statement. If you’re wearing black Chanel evening dress [courtesy of a successful score], don’t garnish it with some tacky sunglasses, with angels carved into the temples. Believe me, the dress is enough if the rest of your game is down. People from “nice families” NEVER have to try to look like they came from the right side of the tracks, BECAUSE THEY DID. You DIDN’T, so be very careful about coming off as a wanna be. They’ll spot you in a second if you flinch. This is war, girls, and you can’t afford to screw up; particularly when you’re at an important event attended by the people you want to attract. One fuck up and you’re history. Finally, watch your language. Do NOT curse under any circumstances and NEVER bad-mouth a socialite. If she finds out, she will make it her business to destroy you before you’ve had a shot at fame…AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU SHE KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE UP TO. Be nice. Do not show even a trace of envy. No discussions about the high price of ANYTHING. You’re supposed to be used to high sticker prices, remember? Smile. Sublimate the anger that fuels every cell in your body. It’s tough, but do it no matter what.

So let’s review things one more time. A flawless body with a nice ass is the template from which you will launch your assault. Remember, “nice” girls value things other than their bodies, which means they are usually not as sculpted as you will be. This is an easy advantage to achieve, so watch your diet and go to the gym every single day. Do what you have to do to polish the rest of your look. Since your moral boundaries are relative, you figure it out. Just make sure you do it. Hair, skin, teeth, nails, attire. Express yourself without cursing and keep that smile plastered on your face.And throw away the damn gum!

Now that you’re in shape – and the other aforementioned items are checked – you have to find a way in. Your best bet is to find someone to invite you to,say, The Houstonian. You’ll need no more than a week or so to get the ball rolling [since the place is so full of soft targets - discuss later], but you’ll have to wait for my next post for to get more information on how to pull this one off.