The Lust Principle

Chapter One: Not the One

     It's called the Pleasure Principle.  The theory is that people seek pleasure and avoid pain.  It's the thought process behind my latest solution to my 'boys suck' mentality.

      Mira takes a sip from her Starbucks cup.  "You know Freud's been largely discredited, right?"

     "I'm not interested in the Psychology aspect," I say.  "It's the idea that counts.  Search for pleasure, run like hell from pain."

      "If that were true, Fifty Shades wouldn't be so famous."

      I roll my eyes.  "You're missing the point.  I'm saying that I find a guy I can have a purely sexual relationship with.  I just need to pick one that I have no chance of falling for."

     "Sounds easy," Mira says. "and sane.  Can you hear the sarcasm in my voice?"

     "It can't be any harder than trying to find The One, and people have been doing that for decades."

     "Sure, only you want to find The Guy Who Can't Possibly Be The One."

     "Exactly."

     "You're insane."

     "You love me."

      "Sadly."

      I grin and her, and she rolls her eyes.  

     "Where do you plan to start looking?" she asks.  I shrug.

     "Tinder?"  I frown.  I haven't actually thought this far ahead.

     "Excuse me."  

     We both turn to look at the elderly woman in the booth across the aisle from ours.  She's the one who's just spoken.  

     "I couldn't help but overhear.  My grandson met a lovely woman through Tinder, and he adores her.  I think she's his dominatrix, though.  Are you ladies into that?"

     I openly stare at the woman.  Mira tries to pass her laugh off as a cough. 

     An hour later we've finished our desserts, paid the bill, and left the restaurant.  Mira brings up the old lady's comments and starts laughing all over again.

      "Even Eunice McElderly thinks you need to get laid," she says.  I thank her for her support, and she grins at the sarcasm.  "It's what I'm here for, darling."

     I make a hmph noise, and she grins at me.  "I'm just sick of being alone, you know?"

     "Battery Operated Boyfriend," she says seriously.  "I'm telling you."

     "I like my guys alive," I say drily.  "But thank you."

     "You have to hide the crazy.  I mean, you're hot.  Just don't let your Not The One see the crazy, and you're golden."  She raises an eyebrow at me.  I raise both back.

      "You're telling me not to be myself with a guy," I say, to clarify.  She nods.  "Don't have children, Mir.  You'll murder their self-esteem."

      I don't know that she's right about the 'hot' comment, but I know I'm at least decently attractive.  Guys liked me in high school, and I haven't changed all that much since graduation three years ago.  Same dark brown hair, same lightly tanned skin, same hazel eyes.  My boobs have gotten a bit bigger, and my legs a little more muscular (thank you, classes on the fourth floor and broken elevators), but I don't think those things would necessarily detrach from my attractiveness.  I frown at Mira.