Posts Tagged ‘leech’

Forget him, focus on the ring

Before I get started, the reason I’m using a gender specific term here…is because I’m a guy. So before you get your draws up in a bunch moving your neck around talking about “why he ain’t taking bout toxic men?”, it’s cause I don’t date men. Someone else is thus much more qualified to speak on that subject than I am. It’s not cause I’m sexist. I mean I am sexist, but that has nothing to do with this here topic. I’ll be utilizing my sexism in such upcoming posts as “Why You Shouldn’t Interrupt When Men are Talking,” “Good Women Know their Place: the Kitchen,” and “You ain’t Baked Nothing All Day: Reasons to Divorce Her, Vol I.”

However, today’s topic was inspired by a post Belle had about whether or not Black women know how to date.
In the post, She mentions problems she has whenever she tries to fix up a single female friend of hers with a man:

It happens whenever I suggest to women who complain of not going on a date in ages that they go out with the janitor, the waiter, a mail room man, or whomever is cute with cut arms that are the size of her thigh.

The response is always a list of degrees and awards and accomplishments and there’s always— always— a comment about the man not being on “my level.” (FYI– none of those make you laugh or keep the bed warm.)

This is the first type of toxic woman:

The Equally Yoked-er

You better have a Class A office bldg in your background pic if you want some of this.

You better have a Class A office bldg in your background pic if you want some of this.

This chick. No matter what she’s done or hasn’t done in her life, her expectation of a man is that he be “equally yoked.” Now in the biblical sense, I’m to understand that this means two Christians who share the same faith in Jesus. For her purposes, however, this usually boils down to your resume. I was at a Black Ivy League mixer a couple months back and a friend of mine who’s a cop was talking to a young lady and he was right offended when she asked him “So which Ivy did you go to, or are you one of these interlopers?” Granted, it was an Ivy League mixer, so it wouldn’t be unfair to expect that most people there were in fact Ivy Leaguers, but I think it was the “interloper” comment that didn’t work for him. The “Equally Yoked-er” is obsessed with her potential mate having a checklist of qualifications to make him acceptable. Because the Equally Yoked-er usually has an advanced degree, she believes it would be “settling” or a step down to date someone that doesn’t or went to a school she deems inferior to hers. As I mentioned on Belle’s blog, the problem is this:

We talked a lot about this on a certain young black professional dating forum. What some of these women don’t get is that, for better or worse, educational and professional achievement don’t mean much to men if you’re not good looking. So while you as a multi-degreed sister may value a man’s career and education over his looks, it doesn’t really work the same way for us. Yeah, all things equal, we’ll take an HBS 8 over a Devry 8, but I don’t know too many men choosing a 6 with a Wharton MBA over a fresh out of Howard 9. Just is what it is.

The Equally Yoked-er becomes toxic for herself because she sabotages potential relationships based on criteria that while may be impressive, don’t really correlate with functional relationships. And she becomes toxic to men in two ways. for men that don’t “measure up”, she tends to deride or minimize them. The refrain is always, “I have a law degree, I’m supposed to date the janitor now?” As if there were no middle ground between lawyer and janitor. For those men that do meet her standards, if they’re not interested, she’s the first to yell about how “these arrogant educated black men think they’re god’s gift to women.” In some ways, she fetishizes public accomplishment the same way guys fetishize a Cherokee D’ass size booty. It’s not about the person, it’s about something else.

The Attention Whore

This is bullshit! I said a helicopter for my Sweet 16! Not foreigner, Helicopter!

You all know this one. She NEEDS to be seen, NEEDS men to pay attention to her, and NEEDS to have her existence validated. She’s the one on twitter posting links to her Youstream feed every three minutes or linking up twitpics of her bent over a Bentley when the topic has nothing to do with that so the attention goes to her. She starts off on MTV’s My Super Sweet 16 and ends up on Bridezillas. Whenever the conversation moves to something that’s not about her, she has to reel it back in. She’s toxic because she doesn’t need affection, she needs attention. And she’ll get it where she can find it. Usually, the best way to do that is sexual provocation. Not saying she’s a slut, but….. Until she finally feels validated enough by her quasi-celebrity status, she’s not worth putting a lot of time into, because her focus isn’t on anyone else but her.

The Diva


Much like the Attention Whore, this one is focused on her, her, her. Her deal is entitlement. She’s never done a kind thing in her life because she feels like people should give her special favor and attention for…well, hell if I know.

The Dreamer

This one alternately has her head in the clouds or up her ass. The dull realities of life don’t really measure up for her, so she creates these fantasy worlds of what things COULD be like without bothering to put in the effort to make them like that. This relates to everything with her. She’s 5’3″ and chubby but thinks she’s going to be a Victoria’s Secret Angel. Her ideal of marriage is the Cosby Show, and anything short of that just won’t do. Despite the fact that unlike Claire, she’s not a lawyer, and her credits so bad, she’ll never qualify for that Brooklyn Brownstone. The problem is, anything that doesn’t mesh with the fantasy she’s created in her head is a disappointment, regardless of how unlikely it was in the first place, creating eternal frustration.

The Victim

It's all that Marley boy's fault

This woman is perpetually oppressed by everyone. Men, white people, patriarchy, her boss, her health problems. Nothing about this woman’s life seems any fun and since people don’t really find themselves attracted to that, she creates a vicious cycle where people reject her because, well, she’s miserable. This makes her even more miserable. I’ll tell you who was oppressed: My maternal grandmother. She was a domestic in Southern Maryland, which might as well have been Alabama at the time. She had no real formal education, worked herself to the bone to support 12 children (two of whom died young), and was married to a man, my grandfather, who I am to understand was a true and real son of a bitch. And yet, my grandmother was one of the most joyful people I’ve met. She could glean joy from the smallest things. Her kids grew up healthy and right. The Victim could learn something from her.

The Conformist

Must. Not. Upset. The Base.

This woman has never met a social group she didn’t HAVE to fit into. She constantly needs the approval and acceptance of her peers and is loath to have an independent thought or be someone or something that may offend. She usually has a carefully crafted personality and appearance and is quick to judge those who don’t similarly conform. Unfortunately, one wrong move and she’s out in the cold with the same people she was so desperate to impress int he first place.

The Leech

I don't want the Rolls, I just need a ride. And a burger. Mmmmh. Checkers!

While there’s a lot of talk about gold-diggers from a lot of guys in our socio-economic circle, the reality is that for the vast majority of them, professional gold-diggers aren’t giving them the time of day. no ones trying to trap them with a baby or take their houses and cars. What the leech will do however, is use her feminine wiles to slowly drain men for the little things: Dinners, drinks at the club, a light bill here and there. The good thing about the leech is she usually has a pretty good idea of who she an and can’t pull this shit with. So as a man, it’s pretty easy if you just make it known that you’re not that dude to correct this behavior. for the woman herself, this is problematic because she gets a reputation, and even if the guy hasn’t heard about her, he’ll pick up her M.O. pretty quick and put her in a certain category. That category is usually NOT described as wife or girlfriend.

So who’s this post for? Male bloggers get slammed quite a bit for telling women what to do dating-wise. This, at the end of the day, is just one man’s opinion of what types of women I shy away from. There are certain men I assure you are interested in these types of women. I’m just not one of them and most of the guys I know aren’t those guys either. For guys, these are some women you may or may not want to deal with when you see signs. It’s up to you. Use with caution

Faithfully yours,

B St. Arruh

So in the this episode of Romance and Finance, we’re going to focus on the neverending obsession we have with golddiggers. As much as we may say we hate them, let’s face it, we love talking about them. Without gold diggers, where would our economy be? What incentive would there be for men to work? To innovate? To buy Ferrarris? To sack Egypt? None. Before I begin today’s extrapolation, I want to share with you a little post from our friends at Dating a Banker Anonymous:

Dear Daba Girls,

I am a potential FBF (Finance Boyfriend), I am in my mid/late-twenties working as a trader for a bank in Zurich, which is certainly not as big or as happening as New York however, having lived in a big city, I like it here. The ski slopes are only an hour away during winter and in the summer, weekend trips around Europe are all too easy to organize. Bearing all of this in mind; there is still one aspect of my life which is incomplete and that is: I am still a “potential FBF”. I am having trouble finding a decent DABA girl to share it all with. I lie awake at night dreaming of being mentioned (anonymously, and although this may defeat the object of the whole exercise in the first place, she would of course tell me all about it afterwards and we would both laugh about it…) on your website by a young lady who desperately needs help trying to figure out new and exciting ways of spending my money and of prying me away from the office.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I lack attention from the fairer of the species, it just so happens that I am unable to tell the difference between those that are truly worth it (DABA Girls) and those that aren’t (Bottle-popping girls).  So for the sake of “potential FBFs” (can you think of a better term for that one?) around the world could you please give me some pointers as to how to tell the difference between the two?  How do I know that the girl I may be chatting to at the bar is actually a complete sleaze who is just in it short-term for the cash?  And more importantly, how do I send out the right signals to the girls that are actually worth it?

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Yours truly,


Ah, finally we get some love from Switzerland, where the locals love cheese with holes, classic timepieces, and chocolate as much as we do. Not to mention the huge vaults filled to the brim with gold.  Don’t despair Timo. We can help.

Spotting a true DABA Girl is as easy as ABC (I’m watching the Michael Jackson tribute so just go with it). Take a cue from MJ and be on the look out for:

A: Authenticity. A true DABA Girl is authentic in all that she does. Her boobs, laugh, and intentions are real. Her intentions with you, or any guy, may include a little somethin’ somethin’ about a man that can ‘provide a certain lifestyle’ but she will be honest and upfront about it. On the other hand, if she tells you she is just looking for a soul mate and then claims to love action movies, you have encoutnered a bottle poppin’ girl charading as DABA Girl and your B.S. meter should go off.

B: Boyish charm. I’m talking about her alpha personality. A DABA Girl doesn’t need you to order for her (but you should), she’s self sufficient, opinionated, and confident. Beware, she’s not going to let you get away with much. Make sure that your information on the late Mr. McNamara’s career is factual (she’ll know if you’re just regurgitating yesterday’s article from the Times).

C: Coolness. A DABA girl isn’t desperate. She doesn’t care if she meets you or not. Most likely she’s dating three other guys already. You’re going to have to approach her.

Which brings me to these easy steps:

1: You’re zeroed in on your girl. Whether you’re at a bar and she’s laughing away with her friends or sitting at a cafe reading Isadore Sharp’s Four Seasons send over a drink or stop and say hi. Simple as that. Warning: DABA Girls are not girl haters and therefore do travel in packs.  To get to her you may have to approach a group of 4+ women. If this intimidates you, you are not FBF material, and you should stick to bottle poppin girls who generally travel in two’s to avoid competition.

2: Be calm and confident. A DABA Girl wants to meet a guy who is uber confident and won’t be intimidated by her. Don’t be a jerk, but a sprinkling of cockiness never hurt.

3: If you click, ask her if she would like to get together some time. Call the next day (note: I said call, don’t text or email). Take her on a date that you would like to go on. Don’t take her to Benihanas because you want to make sure she’s not into you just for your money. Don’t take her to a five star restaurant, you’ll look like you’re trying too hard. Take her to a restaurant that you’ve been dying to try or one that you love.

If you are indeed the potential FBF you claim to be, we assume you can take it from here.

See, I wanted to start this out on a nice, conciliatory note. A nice man with some money wants to find him a nice girl who will appreciate his money. Everyone wins. Hooray! Of course, that’s not how it seems to go down in my little world. For the most part, whenever the topic comes up during dinner, it quickly devolves into men describing every woman who wants more than a two-piece from Popeye’s as a gold digger and the women accusing the men of being cheap bastards who are too poor by several hundreds of thousands of dollars to even show up on any self-respecting gold digger’s radar. Which begs the question: What is a gold-digger? I mean I always thought it was fairly self-evident but apparently I’m wrong. Is Kelis a gold-digger? Or just a woman scorned who deserves a decent severance package after what her husband put her through? What about Heather Mills? Is it her fault she got married in a 50/50 jusrisdiction? More to the point, what about less celebrated, everyday women who have differing opinions on their financial responsibility within a relationship? Or who have an income standard for the men they date? Are they filthy gold digging whores? Or just women with standards? With that in mind, I’ll give you my take on the varying levels of diggery

Need I even add a caption?

Need I even add a caption?

1. Professional Gold Digger The Bad News: This is the type of woman who has the skills, mentality, and charm to rape your pockets. We’re talking ad infinetum legally enforced payments here. The Good News: She could care less about your broke ass. Unless you’re a banker, ballplayer, or some other level of highly compensated dude, she’s not interested. Your splurges are her everyday trick-off money. She’s been in a helicopter before, likely had sex in one. She not only has been in a Ferrari before, she knows how to work the paddle-shift and can parallel park three models perfectly (She has trouble with the Enzo because of the rear visibility). She doesn’t need a job. Why would she waste her time working some 9-5 slaveship when she could be shopping, starting an ill-conceived clothing line or running her man’s fraudulent tax shelter nonprofit foundation. When women berate men for worrying about gold-diggers because their incomes don’t qualify, this is the woman they’re talking about. When she’s with you, she’ll spend your cheese. When she’s not with you anymore, she’ll STILL be spending your cheese. For all intents and purposes, this chick really isn’t in the conversation because she really is out of your league.

You aint quite in the majors yet, baby

You ain't quite in the majors yet, baby

2. Amateur Gold Digger This is where we start getting into the danger zone. Unlike the professional gold-digger, the amateur doesn’t do this full-time. She keeps a job or income stream going because she recognizes the cyclical nature of gold diggery. Often one of these jobs or hobbies will include either a position which keeps her in close contact with rich men or some sort of modeling/stripping gig to keep her attractiveness front and center for those that would trick.

See me, rich man, see me!

See me, rich man, see me!

As such, her standards are lower. While she may be date the same dudes as the professional GD, she’s missing either the looks, skill, or mentality to convert this into a full time occupation. She may even be conflicted about being a gold digger and secretly want to be an independent woman. She never pays for dates, but will happily accept drinks from men she is completely uninterested in at the nightclub/lounge. She knows all the promoters and never waits in line.Occasionally, these women will go through  period of time of rejecting their diggerness, choosing to grow their hair natural, compose poetry, and smoke weed after being emotionally hurt by a rich man. This phase will lapse quickly as she realizes them chewstick/backpack dudes are every bit as shady, but all she gets out of them is a vegetarian meal at some organic restaurant and some brick-pack Georgia dirt weed. Weave and Louis Bag status will return quickly. This woman often equates her worth as a person with what she can get out of men and is prone to extreme moodiness and periods of depression when the money isn’t flowing at her and euphoria and happiness when she is receiving a lot of attention.

If I show him Im still flexible, hell buy me a drink

If I show him I'm still flexible, he'll buy me a drink

3.LeechProbably the most prevalent of the gold-digging species, this bitch is just cheap. She has a job but likely spends a good deal of her discretionary income on frivolous things. She despises being called a gold digger and will be the most vocal opponent of the use of the term in describing women. She justifies her bent by using cliches like “I’m spoiled” and “I like the finer things in life.” She enjoys the attention of men, and often engages in diggerish pursuit more for the sport of it than for any legitimate financial gain. While she talks a good game about getting money from men, she usually lacks the discipline to move up to professional status. Often, this is a phase enjoyed by women in their early 20’s.  She is usually getting boned by a broke ass dude on the side who’s either working on a record deal or doing some other economically irrelevant shit. This means that she can string men along for free dinners and gifts for quite some time without giving up any ass as she has a consistent dick supply. As a pragmatist, she recognizes that she needs to keep her shit somewhat together and that she will likely not be able to maintain a lifestyle off of a man forever. She is quick to call a dude cheap and argue that she could pay for some shit herself, but never does. If she takes leftovers home, it’s very likely that her producer boyfriend will enjoy them on your dime. Her monetary standards are fairly low and typically consist of subsistence items like dinners, groceries, and occasionally a nice gift. As such, these women are extremely dangerous to men making below six figures as they can quickly drain away income that could be invested. These are the kind of broads whose bladders be acting up right at the exact moment the bill’s about to arrive at a group dinner.

Now on to the second point: Why do men have such a harsh reaction to gold diggers? Two reasons. The first is that men ARE their money. That’s what we’re celebrated for, recognized for, and put on the cover of Forbes for. No one celebrates Diddy for his talent. They celebrate him because he’s paid. Gold diggers are by nature, a threat to that money, whether via a professional taking millions in the divorce and draining you monthly with alimony, or by a leech siphoning off what little entertainment cash you have. The second is that while we ARE to the public, our money, we’re still at the end of the day who we are as most importantly as people. We want people to like us for who we are, not for what we can do for them. That’s why a surprising amount of rich men end up marrying fairly plain or non-gorgeous women. It’s fine to trick off some dough to fuck a dime, but almost no one wants to wake up in the morning, look at the woman sleeping next to them, and know that if this bed in this bedroom in this four bedroom home in this gated community were in a one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood, they wouldn’t be here. That’s just not a good feeling. That’s why you so many men who have made it big also harbor a slight disgust toward the women who who approach them now. The “Back then” story is real to a lot of men, because we know at our core, we’re the same person, it’s just the circumstances have changed. So if someone wasn’t interested in you then, is it that they’re interested in you know, or interested in what you can provide. No one likes being used. I imagine it’s the same story to a lot of women who have lost a ton of weight. Now why we still act a monkey for y’all and try to impress you with our degrees and earning power given all this, I don’t know. I guess we’re conflicted too.

I be popping bottles, Ma! But dont expect me to pay for dinner. That would make you a gold digger, trying to go after the money Im trying to flaunt here. Unacceptable

I be popping bottles, Ma! But don't expect me to pay for dinner. That would make you a gold digger, trying to go after the money I'm trying to flaunt here. Unacceptable