The Dating Experiment: My Understanding of the $200 Date

I recently went out with a woman who works in the fashion industry. Here’s this particular woman’s background: twenty-six year old from Queens working for a private fashion company. More specifically, a showroom in West 30’s. What is her function? In her words she is a glorified telemarketer but primarily a secretary. I do not recall the “technical” name for her telemarketing role but by now if you didn’t know that “administrative assistant” meant secretary then you deserve to be duped by women in semi flashy clothes that could easily be purchased at H&M while deeming themselves worth more than their title simply because they were given a title that sounds professional. That is how this woman I went out with is best described as.

Now that you know what she does let’s get down to who she networks with. Where do secretaries work? Offices. Who works in offices? White men in suits. What do white men in suits do? Push papers and numbers, and talk about nonsense you can’t keep up with but trust me you don’t want to. These white men, some from New York and some aren’t, feel entitled because they work in an office for someone who doesn’t know them from the last Tom Dick or Harry they replaced while receiving a nice pay bump for following orders over the last two years. They’ll run into one another and say “Tom!” “Hey Bill!” shake hands, and then the conversation will become hushed like they’re trading government secrets.They talk about diversifying portfolios and stocks their company’s shareholders are buying/selling over $50 drinks at Happy Hour because why the Hell not? It won’t put a dent in their bank account.

My date recently broke things off with a man who lived on the Upper East Side and for whatever reason had to move to The Bronx- the Brooke Avenue stop on the 6 train to be exact. They dated for six months. He paid for everything. He works in a jewelry store. Why they ended things is a mess of confusion I refuse to dissect. Everything I said about men in suits she confirmed to me. She even went a step further and said she is tired those men.

Here’s why she went out with me. According to her she had become tired of the same mundane conversations with these men in suits. So she decided to begin saying “yes” to offers from men who are “on the other side” of this world. In her words our date was an experiment to which she said was “a mean thing to say” and tried to apologize because “that’s not how I meant it.” But she kept repeating the word experiment in that context. Keep your apology.

I didn’t pay $200 for our date. We ate at Umami’s in The Village and got froyo a few blocks away. I paid though. This woman had nothing of value to bring to the table in regards to conversation. Everything that was brought up; her ex-boyfriend, a reference to Freud I made in a joke (which she said was the first time anyone had ever done- not just on a date, ever), I was on the money by assuming she drank Chardonnay because women think they’re classy by unwinding with a glass of wine which falls directly into this white men in suits lifestyle since the women of New York want to be Carrie Bradshaw so badly, even the topic of this blog post; it was all started by me. I said I felt like I was doing a lot of talking yet somehow she also felt she was. Not the case. She answered questions but mostly agreed with things I said, used my wording, and then added a bit to it. She has no hobbies, nothing she’s passionate about. She shops online when she gets home. She didn’t watch cartoons as a kid. She hates to aimlessly walk. She hates parks and the idea of sitting in one to talk. She had the nerve to frown upon the fact that I play video games, read graphic novels and manga, and watch anime. She even claimed to not have any free time to read. But she can sit in front of a computer screen and shop online for a couple hours before bed. 

On a “typical date” for her is dinner, then out for drinks, more food, and then possibly more drinks. But she doesn’t “drink like that.” She’s never rode the subway or bus to go from one place to another for any of those events; a yellow cab is hailed down, she doesn’t pay. Her ex-boyfriend spoiled her with all of this whom, according to her, has spent upwards to $200 a night.

That is what a $200 date consists of from how she described her ex’s spending patterns and the social circle she is used to’s behavioral patterns. 

You give some women a title such as administrative assistant they suddenly think they’re part of something bigger. A woman will tell you she works in finance but don’t be fooled. She’s either a bank teller or started out as one and then quickly got promoted only because bank’s like Chase constantly hire new tellers which forces them to promote. So because they were hired by a company they knew was a safe bet suddenly forgot where they came from because white men in suits want to spend $200 on them. Well guess what? I may have been an experiment for my date but these women, women who aren’t white because my date was Asian, are experiments for the white men in suits. They too grow tired of the same humdrum conversations so they look elsewhere for entertainment. And where is this place? “The other side.” The side that doesn’t know what those whispered conversations consist of but seem profoundly interesting yet aren’t. The side that refuses to hail down yellow cabs “in the city” because how else are they going to pay for a night out in Manhattan? The side that refuses to consistently pay $12 for lunch every day at different restaurants just so they can call themselves “foodies.”

She made my “world” sound like The Dark Side. She even had the nerve to tell me I was “friendzoned” yet doesn’t even understand the ideology behind it. She forgot she’s just “a normal girl,” as she said to me via text, from Queens who happened to fall in love with a man who wore a suit to work and could spend upwards of $200 a date. Her title gave her a false sense of entitlement, and that is who thinks they’re worth spending $200 a date on.


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