Atop his desk Frank keeps a little porcelain statuette of a pig rolling in the mud. "I keep it there to remind me of what I never want to be," he says. Another seasoned fee-only planner I know, Chris, says, "How can they possibly sleep at night? I could never sell my soul like that."

In Paula's world, there's no less loathing. Fee-only planners are seen, at best, as elitists, unsympathetic to the unwashed masses who can't afford out-of-pocket fees. At worst, they are seen as losers, without the spine to compete in the commissioned world, perhaps not even smart enough to pass the Series 7.

One guy I know, Charles, is president of a financial planning group that sells stocks, bonds, options, youname-it, all on commission. He sees fee-only planning as an impractical niche. "You fee-only guys have this holier-than-thou attitude, and it is, quite frankly, ludicrous," Charles says to me. "The majority of financial products in America are sold on commission. Are you going to tell me that by restricting my product options to only no-commission products that I'm benefiting my clients? C'mon, Russ."

C'mon, Charles. Wake up and smell the coffee futures, I'm inclined to say, but, as with Paula, I bite my lip. It doesn't matter how many products you have to offer, Chucky, you're always going to be inclined to offer the ones that pay you the big, fat commission. After all, little Johnny needs braces, and teenage Jennifer is hankering for her own car.

Oh, there I go. In truth, I may have been swayed by guys like Chris and Frank to assume the worst. But maybe there are commissioned planners out there who can be objective. Maybe Charles is one. I'd like to give them all the benefit of the doubt. I'd like them to give me the benefit of the doubt. Give peace a chance. Let's all be friends.

But lovers? Hmmm. As it turned out, Paula didn't have much to say about beta or standard deviation. But she had lots to say about her commissions. In between bites, she explained to me that she gets to keep a third of the first year's premiums on any life insurance policies she sells. "Business was good after 9/11," she cooed. "Everybody, you know, was kind of obsessed with death."

I started to sorely miss that gym teacher.

"But now business is pretty slow," Paula continued, ejecting an olive pit from between her lips, and letting out a long sigh.

That, I supposed, was my cue to pick up the check. So I took a final bite of gyro, wiped the grease from my lips, and flagged down the waitress. Then I told Paula that I'd had a good time, and I'd be calling her.

We both knew that wasn't true.