GolddiggerStories about women who score themselves a generous benefactor are always cropping up. Not in my circle, mind you, but they circulate around the news or social media and I wonder to myself, "Self, just what does it take to snag a man who will enthusiastically offer to pay for breast implants or a monthly mortgage or a luxury car?" What is the magic combination, because a lot of women sure as heck seem to be hitting on it? What makes a lady so special that she inspires a dude to shell out absurd amounts of money for her comfort and satisfaction?

It happens all the time, but this story in particular sticks out in my head: a 27-year-old woman parlayed a whirlwind romance with a man almost three times her senior into a shower of expensive gifts including—wait for it—a $700,000 apartment in New York City. Three quarters of a mil for only 10 months of work? Not a bad haul at all. 

Now, I ain’t no golddigger but good skooga mooga. I might throw on a push-up bra and some vampish heels if we’re giving out Manhattan real estate now. You can keep the Benzs and the exotic trips and the glistening jewelry, but property is that long-term investment kind of money. And my dream has always been to own a piece of land in metropolitan NYC.

But humping a 73-year-old sugar daddy to get it? (Shudders.) I’m good. Back to writing this post and stashing my money I go.

Of course, a legal battle is pending in the aforementioned case after our geriatric Romeo got dumped by his plotting (and probably very pliable) mistress. Sadly, no light bulb went off in his head before he wrote a $775,000 check that she might not be after him for his sparkling personality or his rockin’ bod. I’ll give him that he looks good for his age, but c’mon sir: she’s 27. You’re 73. I hope when I get that age, Lord willing, that I’ll be lucid enough to know that a 20-something just a few years removed from his college graduation will not be pursuing me and my wrinkled, Social Security-collecting self because my sexiness is just that irresistible.

There are, of course, less extreme cases of golddiggerism. The NBA and NFL are playgrounds for it, as are the offices of Fortune 500 corporate bigwigs. Even regular, everyday girls are being handed Gucci handbags and trips to the Caribbean. I’ve seen that unfold before my very eyes, and by guys who aren’t even wealthy or well-to-do. They’re just pressed to have a pretty woman on their arm (and sometimes, can I be honest?, a woman who really isn’t even all that easy on the eyes). Is it just the combination of a really desperate guy and a calculating gal or vice versa? The phenomenon baffles me.

I couldn’t be personally indebted to a man I didn’t really like or wasn’t attracted to just because he supplied me with finery. That’s too much of a burden and I’d get tired of being at someone’s obligatory beck and call too quickly. I wish homegirl the best in winning her case and hope, for her sake, that she has $775,000 stashed away somewhere, just in case she loses her court battle. And I wish him the best in making his decisions with a clearer mind, not an overactive libido and a swollen bankroll.

When is accepting a gift not a good idea?