Janine Caldwell

Janine and I had great convos online—she’s smart, witty, beautiful. First date at a nice wine bar, I’m hopeful. She walks in wearing Gucci sunglasses indoors, sits down, and says, “I only date men who know their net worth.” I laughed. She didn’t.
She ordered the second most expensive bottle of wine and barely touched it. She asked what car I drive, what my “long-term portfolio strategy” is, and whether I believe in prenups. She didn’t ask about my hobbies, passions—nothing personal. Just money, assets, status.
Then she pulls out her phone and shows me her “husband vision board.” It had Elon Musk, Tom Hardy, and a photo of a mansion with the caption, “This or nothing.” I said I was heading out. She muttered, “Ugh, another beta,” under her breath. Dodged a yacht-sized bullet.