Vinnie: I love being in bed with my gym socks on, like a fourteen year-old American teenager.
Cecily: I love being in bed naked with volumes of my own poetry, like an 18th Century cortigiana onesta.
love
Two friends, on Game Theory.
Charles: Yves saying that he would choose to stay with you in Paris instead of taking a dream job in Amsterdam is classic Game Theory. His dominant strategy: lock you in. Your dominant strategy: try as many men as possible, before you settle. Those are conflicting outcomes in a zero-sum game. His best move? Increase the cost to defect. In this case, the cost is your level of guilt for keeping him here if you continue to gadabout with all the other male creatives of Paris.
Cecily: That’s a well thought-out and convincingly articulated hypothesis, my friend.
Charles: Do keep in mind that research finds Game Theory applies best to the emotionally rational, i.e. sociopaths. So you know, he may be a sociopath or he may just be truly in love with you.
Two friends, on anchor’s aweigh.
Cecily: Yves just told me he may take a post in the symphony in Amsterdam. If he does, he leaves next week.
Charles: That’s a decidedly refined take on the old man-off-to-war story;”Cecily, I must serve in the orchestra in Amsterdam. I ship off tomorrow”.
Cecily, on dating.
Cecily: The problem is, I date like a man. And men like the company of other men. In dresses.
Jaël, on loving Cecily.
Jaël: Any man who does not love you is either too gay or too straight. Either way, they have big defects.
Cecily, on Mr. Right.
Cecily: Mr. Right is always right for a few weeks. Right now there are four Mr. Not-quite-right-but-good-for-winter-nights types.
Two people, on wisdom.
Cecily: You look sad.
Jonathan: Yes.
Cecily: Why?
Jonathan: Because women and men are the same… It would be better if women were wiser.
Cecily: It would be better if you were in love with a wiser woman.
Two friends, after New Year’s Eve.
Cecily: One day, someone will write about the grand explosion that was yesterday. Perhaps it was not so much an explosion as a type of cold war. I kissed Nino. Yves walked in and saw us. Jonathan wanted to beat Yves to a bloody pulp. Augustin pontificated about the fact that none of the others were good enough to receive the love of half the tip of my little finger. All of them confessed their undying love for me.
Alexander: Queen.
Alexander, on necessary traits.
Alexander: I’m increasingly infatuated with a lumbersexual. He’s really into metaphysics and is a licensed massage therapist. Pseudo-profundity and deft hands are the only traits I require in a man at this particular moment.
Two friends, on modern romance.
Nigel: I am not sure flaneurs or flaneuses would ever meet on Tinder.
Cecily: Don’t be so pretentious that you can’t be open to modern first meetings and classically romantic evolutions thereafter.
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