For all of the worry and fear the Greatest Depression has inflicted on us thus far, it has also, in some ways, been kind of good. For instance, a lot of things that weren’t available to decent, hard-working New Yorkers in non-preposterous income brackets are now much more accessible: Real-estate prices have gone down, nice restaurants are offering specials, Barneys New York is having awesome sales.
And in yesterday’s “Sunday Styles” section, we caught sight of something that indicated a thaw was on the way in an area long overdue for a correction:
One mother in TriBeCa, who is married, at least for now, to a Wall Street executive, put it rather bluntly: “My job was to run the household and the children’s lives,” she said. “His job is to provide us with a nice lifestyle.” But his bonus has disappeared, and his annual pay has dropped to $150,000 from $800,000 a year. “Let me just say this,” she said, “I’m still doing my job.”
Yes. To paraphrase Warren Buffett, when the tide goes out, you get to see who’s swimming naked — and you also, apparently, get to see which trophy wives are heinous, loathsome, shallow bitches. And to paraphrase Buffett again, or to just totally rephrase him: When others are bitches, be greedy, bitches!
Ladies, you’ll want to get yourselves one of these dudes. Sure, in the short-term, things will be hard: The divorce and the child support will eat what’s left of his paycheck, he’ll struggle with self-doubt, self-pity, self-loathing. But really, is that any worse than dating, like, a musician? Plus, this investment is practically guaranteed to appreciate: In four years, when the economy has recovered, he’ll be raking in the cash again, and more important, grateful and kind, since at least you’re not a vile hell-demon, like his first wife.