If, since we pointed it out to you on Monday, you've been following the phenomenon of the girls from Dating a Banker Anonymous, you'll assume that they are full of woe that the boys who kept their lives high-flying and fun are no longer there to provide bottles at clubs, reservations at restaurants, and great economic-boom sex. "Now, many Wall Street wives, girlfriends and, increasingly, exes, are living the curse of cutbacks in nanny hours and reservations at Masa or Megu," mocked the Times in today's article on the ladies. "And that credit card? Canceled." Some readers of the website viewed the women with scorn, others with judgment from on high. And nobody can seem to believe that they may have gotten a book deal (including us, since they were unknowns until Monday). But we would make the slight but important clarification that they're not actually pitying themselves — they're just elucidating a cultural phenomenon.
Okay, so we teased them at first, too. The point is, these women obviously don't feel bad for themselves — get a sense of humor, people. It's not that the problems of their "F.B.F.s" (Financial-Guy Boyfriends) are in some way lessening them. They're still on top of the world — they're just having to find new people to date. "When you’re a confident, successful, ambitious woman, it’s really hard to date someone or be attracted to someone who can’t keep up with you," site founder Laney Crowell told Intel. "And the guys are just less able to keep up right now." They mostly just pity the guys who used to be able to fly high with them, see? And they're working to find new people to meet — in fact, Crowell and her co-creator Megan Petrus went to Sundance last week to find a new set of suitors. "But of course we ended up hanging out with finance guys from New York the whole time," Crowell laughed. "It might just be what we’re used to. The dressed-up actor types weren’t really doing it for us."
Okay, so we’d feel a little better defending them if their efforts at branching out didn’t seem so half-hearted. The finance-boy addiction is apparently harder to kick than we would have ever imagined.