The Gold Digger Within

(based on a true story)

It’s not everyday that one is forced to face/admit a character frailty, and therefore the exposure of this frailty, totally unplanned, out of the blue and incidentally caused by one’s own outrageous actions, can often leave one with a feeling akin to how Judy Finnigan must have felt when she discovered her dress had dropped at the National Television Awards revealing her more than copious bosom to hundreds in the audience and millions nationwide –  A combination of amusement and embarrassed horror.

What on earth has this got to do with The Gold Digger Within?

Well, I was one of those women who at least semi-prided herself on not being of that fickle ilk of women who eyes light up like chicken shop fruit-machines at the sight of a guy with money, a good car, expensive clothing (how it pains me to write this) and whatever else in a man that just oozes riches, pressed down, shaken together, and overflowing. I truly believed that the inbuilt Potential Man Cash Cow GPS system (to be honest this is in all women) had been well and truly disconnected and I was now on the path of righteousness guided only by pious thoughts of seeking the personality and character behind the face, anything else being a bonus.

However, recent events have shown me that I can now apply one of my favourite catchphrases to myself:

Lies and deceit.

I will only give a brief account of the events that led myself (and incidentally the other friend involved) to this conclusion, as quite frankly, I feel a teeny bit ashamed of my actions.

(Names and details have been omitted to protect the identities of the person’s involved. Except mine. Of course.)


A friend and I were recently offered a lift home by a male friend, tell a lie, we pretty much told him he was taking us home, he kindly acquiesced, and we proceeded to make our way to the car. We turned the corner of the road on which the car was parked and with frightening telepathic timing, myself and this friend began to snigger. It took one look at each other, no words spoken, for us to confirm what we were both sniggering about and we chuckled (shamefully *retrospective note*), even harder. It came to the point where we could no longer walk and had actually paused on the pavement almost bent double because we were now laughing so hard. The male friend stood looking at us rather bemused and asked why we were laughing.

Several attempts choked by laughter later, we both asked him where his car was. He pointed vaguely across the road in the direction of three cars. [Remember that GPS system I mentioned earlier? Well, mine had enabled itself so much so that I don’t even remember what make the other two cars were, just that they were naff *remember this is the Gold Digger’s mind speaking*]. However, there was a swag car in the middle that looked like it’d accidentally been removed from the car showroom. God bless the man who owned it). This inspired another eruption of laughter from my friend and I and eventually we both coughed out ‘Er…which car is it?’ ‘It’s the blue one isn’t it?’ (the blue one was the naffest car on the left *Gold Digger’s mind speaking here*).

No answer from male friend.

Cue some higher pitched peals of laughter. He did not look offended though, just still bemused.

Time to rub some salt in.

He took his car keys out. My eyes widened.

‘WAIT’ I said. ‘Is it one where you actually have to PUT THE KEY IN THE LOCK to open the doors!?’ I asked incredulously.

Cue more hysterical guffaws.

Unconsciously my friend and I started making our way towards the blue car. Our friend now laughed a bit more, clearly amused now having got the gist of why we were laughing (and what I now realise he was probably thinking in his mind is ‘Silly women’). His hand appeared to be in a fairly vertical position to the car in the middle, noted by myself and my friend, which was subsequently followed with comments of outrage from us:

‘Er…No! NO. Don’t beg it. PLEASE. Ahahahahaha!’ we said in unison, or at least something similar. When he pressed a button on his car keys, and a light on the wing mirror of the middle car lit up, in the seconds that followed there was a gobsmacked silence so loud, you could have heard an ant scuttling across the floor.


My friend and I exchanged extremely puzzled, dazed, and confused looks. She even walked into the middle of the road to confirm that her 20-20 vision had actually just seen that light flash yellow. On that car’s wing mirror.

Unified yell.

‘NOOOOOOOOOO. WHAT! ARE YOU KIDDING! ARE YOU HAVING A LAUGH! Ahahahahahahah!’ More yells, more laughter (I think there may even have been an appeal to him to press the button one more time to check what we saw had been real). Such was the ensuing pandemonium that we hardly noticed 2 cars coming from either side of the road that would surely knock us down if we didn’t stop gawking in the middle of the road. It was the middle of the night and I’m sure more than a few households were unnecessarily awoken to the abrupt harmony of our incredulous laughter.

Riveted to the spot, we didn’t dare move in acknowledgment of the fact that that was the car we would enter, until we saw him actually open the car door, then we both ran across the road just in time to avoid the 2 cars coming down the road.

Suffice to say upon entering the car it was less than seconds before we were gasping our apologies to our friend, telling him how much we now rate his life singing his praises like we’d just got a handshake from President Obama. Gushing, gushing, gushing whilst he just laughed knowingly, us having confirmed to him what he’d always (not in these exact words) professed – In every woman there is a Gold Digger within. I think his exact words were ‘I know your type’.


If you didn’t understand the Judy Finnigan parallel at the beginning surely this has helped you, as I personally find it hard to read this story without laughing uproariously at such outrageous behaviour, whilst simultaneously feeling some shame at having treated another human being this way. In fact, if anything, this whole episode really showed the good quality of the character of the guy we did this too as he took it light-heartedly and was highly amused and as yet, or at least as far as we know, has suffered no psychologically drawbacks from our behaviour.

But what this incident really highlighted for me, is that there is the capability in even the most self-declared self-righteous its-all-about-your-personality women (speaking as a former presidential candidate of the society 🙂 ), to wile out like a first class Gold Digger if given half the chance. We couldn’t even blame intoxication. We’d barely had a drink.

In the morning after the night before, as I pondered upon my behaviour of the previous night, I began to feel a little bit more sheepishness than amusement over what had taken place. Perhaps I was being too harsh on myself, but the fact of the matter is, people have gone into school or workplaces and shot down people over lesser things (Please understand that I am not for a second saying the male friend was or is capable of murderous inclinations if he had been annoyed. At least I don’t think so). But what if he hadn’t found it funny? What if we’d actually hurt his feelings and his sense of self-worth? Over what? A car? Is a car, its make, its model, any material possessions, etc. really a measure of the calibre of a person?

Emphatically no. So why do so many of us women judge men by those standards?

I really can’t be bothered to go into the Hunter gatherer Vs Woman-who-wants-a-man-to-protect-and-provide argument. It’s been dissected thousands of times before by more articulate people and people with more anthropological clout than me. But I have to reluctantly admit that I think we women sometimes have a part to play in some of the behaviours (albeit ridiculous) some men exhibit. Everyone knows at least one guy who at the faintest slither of sunlight whips out his Ray Bans (or good fakes), swaggering down the street like a megastar (He thinks. To us he just looks like a bizarrely large and male Powerpuff girl). Why does he do this? Well in part because some shallow mama probably gave him more than the 0.2 seconds attention such pretentiousness deserves and upon recognising the signature style of the Ray Bans her mind was immediately overwhelmed with neon lights flashing ‘Cash Cow! Cash Cow! CARPE DIEM!’ (the GPS system at work) and before 1 second had even passed, her mind was already in the Caribbean sipping on cocktails, bought with his money, on a holiday all paid for by him. And even worse, she validated his behaviour by smiling coyly at him, flirting, and swaying her hips that little bit more as she walked in the silent but ever so loud expression of ‘I’m feeling you’. Ergo, the poor (questionably so) guy believes that this is the way to snag a woman, and upon receiving validation of this from the female’s reaction, proceeds to replicate this behaviour on a mass scale unable to distinguish between the triflers, and the women that will see him for the man inside (presuming he is not deliberately looking for a shallow gal).

Well shoot.

Isn’t the view great when you’re on the mountain top? Hell, you never want to come down! Well, as my story shows, I unceremoniously slid down the other day, and on the way down I met some friends…the women I just talked about in the previous paragraph.

Humbling experience.

I hope this incident, half funny though it was, teaches me never to be so fickle again as to laugh at a friend or scorn them on the basis of what they have or don’t have and I apologise to anyone, woman or man, that I have made feel small on the basis of their material possessions. Even if the person found it funny it’s not really the greatest character trait to have.

I declare that I am not only disconnecting but disabling the Potential Man Cash Cow GPS signal, and severing any wireless access that may attempt to enable it unawares. I’ve transferred to 3 network so that should all happen very quickly.

Finally, I dedicate this post to all the women who have wrongly believed they are Gold-digger-tendency-free  and have unceremoniously exposed themselves not to be so.

And last but by no means least,

to you…

O wronged man.

I rate you.

Yours Truly



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