The London Paper – 5 Feb 2007
So last week I finally plucked up the courage to tell her indoors that the bonus wasn’t too hot. Two days later she gave me the Spanish Archer (“El Bow”). Co-incidence? I don’t think so. Indeed, I think Kanye West may have been referring to the ex-missus when he eloquently sang “I ain’t saying she a gold digger … but she ain’t messing with no broke nig**z”.
Now, when I say that the bonus was disappointing it was still disgustingly huge by any ‘normal’ human being’s standards. It’s just that with the press continually banging on about every joker remotely connected to the City getting a bonus big enough to buy a Caribbean Island mine looked slightly rubbish. I think the ex-missus’ expectations had been raised by press stories about the 4000+ City workers who were getting a bonus above £1m and those about the average Goldmans employee ‘earning’ a bonus of $623,418. What her analysis perhaps missed is that the Goldmans statistic is somewhat skewed by certain comedians at the top getting bonuses between £20m and £50m as well as the equally important fact that I don’t actually work for Goldmans.
Gold diggers are an occupational hazard if you’re a premiership footballer or a successful Cityboy (or Citygirl). A recent survey by NSI found that 45% of the women they polled said a healthy bank balance was more significant than physical attractiveness in a potential partner. Some Cityboys wouldn’t have it any other way. Indeed, I have noticed that brokers unfortunate to have a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle are often the most ambitious. This suggests a tacit acceptance on their part that the only way to attract ‘hardbody chicks’ is to flash the cash. This, of course, is corroborated by the fact that I feel no major compunction to work hard whatsoever.
The City thrives on greed and the premise that money can get you anything. Call me old fashioned but I think the Beatles may have had a point when they claimed that ‘money can’t buy you love’ (and frankly without love the rest is just tittle tattle). Unfortunately, many of my young single City colleagues don’t subscribe to this view and are more than happy to settle for a bit of random slap and tickle. Since interaction with the opposite sex has convinced them that cash is necessary to get any high quality action they’re generally working hard which is making me look like the slapdash lazy git that I am. So for the sake of my hypertension can everyone just chill and start loving?
Anyway, I’m now young, free and single and looking forward to getting out there and meeting lots of ‘interesting people’. So, if you see a Brad Pitt look-alike wearing suspiciously cheap clothes and a nasty watch, that’s just me making sure it’s my scintillating personality and not the width of my wallet that is getting the ladeez excited. And if any of you do come up and say hello, don’t mention salaries too quickly or I’ll be making a sharp exit.