Asta Charles

Asta Charles
Los Angeles, California, USA
December 12
Myth Maker
A foul-mouthed commentator on life, society, politics, pop culture, and economics. I spend a lot of time in bars. I wrote a manuscript about the perils of online dating and its ultimate cost to society. It's not published. Meh.


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JULY 15, 2009 2:16AM

Fathers, don't let your daughters date rich men

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Almost a year ago now, I was on an online dating escapade through Los Angeles. Really, it's what started this whole blogging thing I do from time to time. My experiences were wretched and I began routinely informing my mother that she was not going to have grandchildren.

"I hope you're okay with that mom, 'cause it just ain't gonna happen. These men are all assholes." 

My understanding and forthright mother lovingly replied, "that's fine, you do whatever you need to do." 

I was stuck with the awkward combination, Iraq and "a hard place", you might say if you like Hot Shots Part Deux references. Being a transplant in LA, with no friends to get a footing on new relationships, an intense desire for all this dating bullshit to just be over,  and father dreaming that I'd do what he didn't and just marry wealthy. It was ugly. 

I learned two things:

1. There is such a thing as too much sex

2. I hate rich men

I certainly selected my online dates by money. Online was a place in which I could ascertain one's financial power immediately. I didn't have to poke around about it and ferret it out, it was right there in front of me. It was a really shitty filter.

One of these men drove a Maserati and took me to a Kings game and sat me down in the second row. It was horribly boring. I left thinking, "I tried dating an exceedingly rich man in my age range. Conclusion: they think their wealth makes up for not having a personality. Thumbs down."

I went on to go on many more dates with income being a factor in my initial contact with all of them. I soon came to realize that this wealth, combined with being under age 35, guaranteed three things:

1. They would have sex with me

2. They wouldn't have a personality

3. They would never speak to me again

Poppycock, this was. (Actually, my sentiment was more like "waaaaaaaah I hate myself, what is wrong with me, I am a horrible person, I am a useless human being.)

As with most upsetting things that aren't of massive implications to one's life, time made this clearer and funnier. Helping this along was a conversation I had with a highly ranking member of the legal community in Los Angeles (read: old while guy).

"One of my daughters married wealthy...and the other just won't." He touted in our meeting.

"Oh my...only let your daughter get married if she's going to marry someone wealthy!"

My "I'm a work" filter immediately clicked off. I was pissed off by this great deal of ignorance. Clearly, the young rich men of today are not the young rich men of yore (no shit, right?).

"You know, I spent a great deal of time trying to date rich men. They aren't all that interested in getting hitched is the problem."

I received no response but a, "oh you're silly" type chuckle. This happens a lot. I'm like Lisa Simpson.

Though my anger was quelled, because I realized I'd answered my own longstanding conundrum:

The rich young men of today are dicks because their trophies are different. Their trophies are not a beautiful wife and family or a stable career - it's partying the fuck out of Orange County or whatever rich suburb and doing jaeger bombs and fucking girls from CSUN.

They'd be fine upstanding young citizens if you were simply a friend of theirs, but as a woman, they're your enemy.


I since conjured up a real gem of a boyfriend whom I met in a bar. We live together now. It's wonderful. We have a modest income. We drink Stolichnaya vodka, but we're not quite Grey Goose people. For fun, we go to pawn shops and fantasize about socialism.

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I can empathize, Asta. In fact, I've been around long enough that I can empathize about most anything. And here's my deal: The keepers I've had were the ones I stumbled over, never ones I found in actual safari/hunting mode. And witness your boyfriend: met him in a bar ... probably while crying in your vodka over some jerk driving a Maserati. Moreover, it is like discovering a precious gem ... way better than bagging some future wall mount of a head you've divorce/ shot because you found lipstick on his underwear.

Good post! Keep observing and sharing.
You violated the first rule, never say you are looking for a rich man. You need the I don't give a shit attitude to attract them. The ones looking for a wife are on that stupid reality show. "Millionaire Matchmaker".

Glad you found a good one, LA is a tough town for love.
The problem was you were dating the guys who let everyone know they're rich. Rich guys who want a successful relationship leading to marriage know better than to let gold-diggers (and I'm sorry, that's what you were) know they are rich.

In the end, you decided you wanted something more than a lifetime of free lunches, but not everyone does. Who wants to be only worth putting up with for the money?
I think there's a massive difference between wanting to be comfortable and being a gold digger, but that's a whole different blog. That's just about every girl in LA. I'm regarded by random acquaintances as "dumb" for not caring about money.
I just realized I made a massive grammatical error on this thing. I don't know how the hell it still got an EP. In the third sentence I meant "...informed my mother she was not going to have grandchildren."
I once had a big discussion with the very depressed, recuperating from a skydiving accident, boyfriend of a dear friend of mine.

He was of the opinion that women sought wealth exclusively, and he was bitter over the idea that women were eagle-eyed enough to size up the wealth of men in a bar by their apparel, particularly the "Rolex check" as he called it. He thought that his dating career had been poisoned by his lack of said watch and its concurrent income.

I countered that in the real world, the converse of this conundrum of dating life could be found in the predilection of men with "beauty" as a qualifier for dating. And just as your description of wealthy men lacking personality is apt, so might be the similar lack of personality sometimes present in the extremely beautiful women one might meet. is the search for these superficial characteristics, transitory in nature that damns many a dating endeavor, male OR female...glad to see you made it to the other side of the stream.
I think yekdeli said it perfectly. I would also like to add, I think men putting their incomes on a dating site is the equivalent of women posting the measurements of the same site. In a perfect world, they would find each other and leave the rest of us who are genuine people.
First, thanks for the happy-ending post. I've experienced the phenomenon from the other side of the Rolex divide, watching one woman after another jump into the abyss. Tsk, tsk.

Count your blessings. You've defied natural law by finding someone interesting and compatible in an L.A. bar on the first hundred attempts. Think of the odds. You'd have had better chances if you'd speed-dated guys on death row.

Second, the odds you beat are even more awe-inspiring because nowadays men self-select into the set of "rich" men by having what once were recessive genes for shallowness, ADHD, amorality and literal and figurative sterility. At some point in the 1980s overbreeding turned those genes dominant. Men with severe greed dyscrasias began fleeing Peoria for Pasadena and Palm Springs in droves.

Third, you may be pleased to know that L.A. has attracted so many shallow, attention-deficient, conscience-free, non-bonding moneyed men for a reason. It's Gaia's way of purging herself of toxins.

She lured them there with mediatized Paris Hilton bait, then she staged a financial collapse. Now that they've lost all aptitude for living in actual human communities, Oz is bursting into flames, drying up, imploding and starting to slide into the sea. Coincidence?

Rich guys, like mules before an earthquake, sense what is coming. Only the 20-30% with vestigial gills will survive. Even they will have many serious Issues in the coming work- and barter-based economy. The rest are panicking blindly, which can make them seem obnoxious to the untrained eye.

This state of affairs will not last much longer. (During the purge, for those who don't like to watch, Nebraska and Saskatchewan could offer interim social firewalls.)

We'll always remember Southern California the way it used to be, of course. In a way, it will remain a harbinger of megatrends. Dating and mating are about to become much, much less nauseating for us all, whether in Portland or Westchester or Houston. Thanks, upwardly mobile greedy rich guys.


@Extragent: your comment was more eloquent and impactful than my blog. It was beautifully written and 100% accurate in my view. Thank you for reading and commiserating!
Rich guys? I'm usually impressed if they have a job--and if they have anything interesting going on between the ears and if they have any sense at all.

One rich guy, who I met at a bar, asked me, after I told him I taught in a local high school: "Have you ever been attacked by a student?"

His cluelessness had me laughing for several blocks as I went searching for my car.
I married a guy whose biggest asset was the ability to make me laugh. We've been together a long time and I wouldn't trade a single laugh for all the money in the world.
@ Without a Paddle: That's incredible. Sometimes, I'm not sure ignorance is bliss. Seems like he created a lot of fear. Wait um...I am talking about your dude in a bar...not Dick Cheney.
@ Maria Stuart: That is fabulous. I hope to do the same. :)
I married a man once for his wonderful humor and friendship. The marriage didn't last, but the friendship remains great to this day. Oh, and two years in, I learned the reason my humble-pie worked only when he pleased while I stuck to a daily grind. He simply would never have to work. Period. On the outside, and by his modest presentation to the world, one would never know his coffers were secure. I am glad his "means" wasn't visible in my face the first time he made me smile. You've written an interesting post. I thank you for the moment of reflection.
"They'd be fine upstanding young citizens if you were simply a friend of theirs, but as a woman, they're your enemy."

Nothing is closer to the truth than this... but if they screw over and disrespect every woman they date, they're not upstanding young citizens, which is what really makes me gag about the whole thing.

I know, exactly how frustrated you feel.
incandescent - that's not true in my experience. A good friend of the h broke up with a woman b/c she made too much money- it made him feel emasculated. I was surrounded by rich men in my career, and the great majority had stay-at-home socialite wives, not equal bringers of bacon.
Glad to hear you found someone real and good for you. I'm about to have to get into the soup again, and am not looking forward to it :p
Incandescent and Sandra: I think what we may be struggling with here is an age gap. I am 25. Rich men my age do not want rich women - hell, they don't want any woman that can stand up for themselves financially or emotionally. They want to pump and dump and they can get away with it because they're loaded. Most girls are happy to fall for that.

Men twice my age or even a mere 10 years older: absolutely they want a rich woman, they definitely want someone intelligent and emotionally stable.

However, back to ladies my age, since that's really what I have my expertise in (y'know, being the age I am): there are the unlucky bit of us who are smart enough to know what we want but we can't get it because we're in a pool of fucking jocks that bathe in parentally purchased jaeger bombs. We aren't yet at the peak of our earning potential because, well, we're in our late 20s. Most of us can't buy a good life by going to Harvard.

Ahh the perpetual conundrum created by (some) women maturing more quickly than men.
And really, guys, why can't we all just be satisfied with marrying for love? What the fuck happened to that?