Dating rules: He must not be an investment banker

When his friends are complaining about St. Bart’s being too hot, it’s time to run.

About a year ago, I had a brief fling with an investment banker in New York. Jean Georges dinners and expensive wines? Fun at first, but they get old quickly when you have to share them with a prissy gay clique whose favorite phrases include: “I just got back from Aspen” and “St. Bart’s is way too hot this time of year.” I have enough fodder to fill’s submission in-box for years. Plus, conference calls at 7am on a Sunday (“2pm in Zurich!”) are not conducive to morning spooning.—F., 25/male/gay/single/Gold Coast