travel

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 strangers, on life.

Yann: You cannot be real. I bet you’re a spam cyborg.

Cecily: I am certainly a cyborg, but not a spam one. Are you one of “us”?

Yann: I… I’m not sure… I travel around the world, looking for answers. I hope to eventually find out who I am. 

Cecily: You’ll probably find you’re human. That would be the best end.

Two friends, on the country house.

Christian: I live in fear of mutant spiders hiding in my luggage and journeying back to Paris with me from my country house. I rather suspect my gardener, Monsieur Poupée breeds them. And my Dutch lesbian neighbours sell them on the satanic market in Utrecht!

Cecily: The satanic market in Utrecht is the only place I’d want your mutant spiders to be. So, I am grateful for your Dutch lesbians and their industry.

Christian: Monsieur Poupée is an odd one, isn’t he? I didn’t realise he had a key to my house until recently — it’s all a bit Agatha Christie.

Cecily: Your country home is indeed a queer place, with extra queer neighbours, and a feeling that Miss Marple is hanging about in the shadows, ready to swoop in when one of us inevitably goes rogue over too much Bordeaux and boeuf bourguignon.