Cambodian Doughnuts

I met a blonde woman in Manhattan wearing an enormous diamond-encrusted watch and those Dior flower rings that I imagined were only bought as sweet 16 gifts for Russian heiresses. The blinged-out woman's exact age was ambiguous, but she could have been anywhere from 24 to 40. I asked her what she did for a living, and she responded, "Nothing. I used to work in marketing. I made no money. Then I met a banker, I got engaged, I stopped working. He got everything I had always wanted: a Range Rover, a Porsche, a house in East Hampton..."

And then her story took an unexpected turn: "But then I just got bored. And I broke up with him." Just as she ended her engagement, her therapist diagnosed her with multiple personality disorder. She says that people accuse her of "living in a fantasy world."

She fled to Paris, where she fell in love with a French man who relocated to New York for her. But she recently broke it off with him too. Perhaps "Princess in Flight" is an apt term for such difficult-to-please damsels who flit from one man to the next. Or maybe she's just a pimp.