sex and the city

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.

Cecily, on expectations.

Cecily: I crumble when people expect too much from me romantically. But then, to an extent, I expect much of them. And the symmetry cripples us both, until all we can do is make out at the movies and try to forget we can’t really make eye contact for fear of not being or being in love.

Two friends, on wives.

Karim: I’m flying back to Riyadh for a couple of weeks.

Cecily: Bring me a wife?… That may have come off as culturally conflationary, but I generally ask for wives when my friends travel.

Two friends, on relationships.

Cecily: I just agreed to a one hundred percent monogamous, committed relationship.

Christian: For the weekend?

Two friends, on pace.

Carlo: You walk so quickly.

Cecily: I am walking toward my future husband, and you toward old age. I understand the difference in pace.

Two friends, on hands.

Christian: Your hands are spindly and alluring.

Cecily: I use them to drive Italian men wild. Yesterday, a man named Marcello bought me a salad just so he could watch my hypnotic nails for an hour. My manicures pay for themselves.

Alexander, on the Gap.

Alexander: I have a pathological terror of all reptiles. It’s almost as crippling as my fear of the Gap.

Two friends, on budgets.

Cecily: Raj says my version of being on a budget is purchasing a €20,000 dress for €2,000.

Ohan: That is a great deal. Especially if you can sell it for €10,000.

Cecily: The problem is, I get attached to things. Especially things I have acquired through good deals. I feel it in my soul. In my blood. The deal-making. I am my mother’s daughter.

Ohan: Which part of your blood makes you not sell?

Cecily: The Cecily part.

Two friends, on expectations.

Alexander: What do you want to happen with Ohan?

Cecily: I would like to see him once every six months, for a week of pure bliss, and never ruin the incredible beauty of what we have by turning it into some conventional full-time relationship. What do you want with Sam? Full-time lying on a beach and reading Proust to each other, while he occasionally barbecues kale and tempeh?

Alexander: I’ll be honest and say I want to know he’s not sleeping with anyone else, and to hear him say “I love you”, and a cute two-bedroom in Park Slope, with matching miniature schnauzers. Plus kale and tempeh in abundance.

Two friends, on depression.

Cecily: I haven’t shaved my under arms in four days. It’s depressing.

Alexander: I never manscape anymore, unless I am seeing Sam. I am in a very dark place. I have to go to Whole Foods. In the rain. To grind my imported Brazilian coffee.