"The best way to get over an old woman is to get under a new one. These are absolute words of solid gold wisdom for the straight male in times of romantic turmoil. Passed down originally from the Greek philosophers of the ancient times directly to me and now you! And how dare you not act upon them?" Lauren was a little drunk by now, but at the expense of her dignity she was flamboyantly encouraging her newly divorced friend to sow his wild oats.

From her point of view the problem was simple. The body wants what the body wants and you should give it that. No bones about it. But for Matt there was an indomitable problem in that most of these women simply did not elicit any response from within for him. Some were not pretty enough, and those that were knew it too well. In the age of internet dating it had become so much easier to be shallow that attractive women had taken to it with wild enthusiasm. He had been asked for picture upon picture even though his profiles all had pictures already. He pitied the guys that had been dealing with it for the decade during his marriage, but not as much as he disliked being a part of it now.

"Look, for the past few weeks I've been on Tinder and I met one girl way too early who was just about perfect. She makes me laugh, I make her laugh, she's smart, successful. Fuckin' everything I would want in a girl for a long term relationship and she's not into me because my divorce was too recent for her. Not to mention that I'm not getting married again and I know that's what she's looking for. So even if she wanted to be with me, it wouldn't make any sense for me to shackle her down until she catches on. And these girls are just so not her that I don't even know how to talk with them. She's ruined me for other women."

Lauren made a pinching motion with her hands and moved her index finger across her thumb back and forth. "Are you going to cry about it? I can play you a sad song on my tiny violin. You're crazy, Matt. You need to dump that crazy in a condom somewhere wet and warm and move on with your life. Like the Greeks said."

"I don't remember the Greeks using condoms," Matt answered.

"I don't remember you being so much of a pussy before you were married. We my man, or at least you, are on a cruise for cooz. And as you are on my cooz cruise with me, you need to make some questionable decisions tonight. The first of which is Fireball or Jaeger?" She motioned to the bartender for two shots of Fireball.

"Oh fuck. You're going to make me have sex with a beautiful woman aren't you?" he asked as she handed him his shot. They knocked the small glasses together and drank.

As the fumes burned in her mouth Lauren pulled the corners of her lips back tight to her teeth and inhaled. "Hot damn! I'll tell you what. Any chick tells you she's not interested then you send her to me. One of two things happens. Either she's straight and I'll change her mind, or she's gay and at least one of us gets what we're here for. Now get out there!"

She slapped him on the ass and pushed him into the floor. Matt felt like an amateur who got mistakenly called up to the Majors and handed a bat. He put on his big boy face, smiled his big toothy smile, and said, "Fuck it."

“It's nothing”

Laura pulled her head away, trying to hide the fact that she winced even from Theodora's fingers brushing across her cheekbone. It wasn't nothing but it also wasn't something she was willing to discuss or show. You held your head high, waited for the swelling to subside and tried to somehow acquire the nerve to endure the pain and poke at it to make sure it wasn't so badly hurt it wouldn't heal.

Laura kept being - even after all these years - surprised at how wide a variety of damadge the human body could repair.

“It's not”

Theodora spoke firmly but not unkindly and pulled Laura's head closer to herself again, being more careful now after seeing how Laura had reacted to just a light touch.

“Let me see” Laura tried her best to keep still, relaxing all muscles best she could, trying to keep her face from twitching, even the tiniest bit.

“I'm really sorry but this is going to hurt.” She said it like a fact, like something that was independent of the fact that she was about to poke at the giant bruise on Laura's cheekbone.

“Ow” Best as she tried Laura couldn't keep her composure. The reaction was involuntary and she felt how her whole body convulsed. She tried her best to keep steady – but of course Thea noticed and threw out a hand to steady her.

Laura noticed the flash of panic in Thea's eyes – it was over in an instant – but it was there long enough that Laura had time to feel incredibly guilty.

“Sorry” The two women's hurried apologies bled into each-other.

Theodora took a deep breath.

“Well – it's not broken.”

“Thank god” They both knew why they breathed a sigh of relief at the conclusion.

They both new what a broken cheekbone would mean. A lot of things could be fixed at home — but not that.

I smile and look at this person. I've never met her before, but being a generous young woman, she offers me a hit of her joint. How kind of her! Never have I exchanged a word with her, yet amid all these lowlifes and bums, and idiotic teenagers, she decides to take her chances and offer me the chance to relieve me of the burden of my sobriety. I gladly accept and ask about her name. "I'm Françoise" she says, in a heavy norman accent. She isn't especially pretty, but she isn't exactly ugly. She had a certain allure to her that quite intrigued me. "Blaise!" I exclaim as I bow and kiss her hand, "pleased to meet you". She laughs and gives me a funny grin, at which I smile. "Would you like to dance," I say in my most refined voice, "mademoiselle?". She denies my request, but invites me to sit in front of her. Then we just stare into each other's eyes, not really because of anything, just that our brains were too clouded to say anything. Suddenly, I interrupt, and ask whose house we're in. She says it's hers. We take another hit. "I guess we should all apologise about how we're wrecking it," I laugh. She giggles, in an insincere way, not showing that she's bothered or anything, just showing that she wouldn't if she were in her right mind.

She then takes my hand, stands up and leads me to her room, without saying a word. It's a dump, but then again, I wasn't expecting anything else. "Well, she says, now that we're alone, we can talk better, don't you think?" I didn't really mind the others, so I shrug. " Look at it," she says pointing to the room, "what do you see?", "Well, it doesn't seem as if you put more effort into it". She gives me that funny look again, at which, again, I proceed to laugh. "I'm kind of confused, I'm not sure what you want, is it company, a conversation, or sex?" She looks around the room, sits down on a pile of clothes and sighs. "Any of them, really, I just want someone around," she answers "Hence the party". "Can I stay here?" I ask "I don't really want to go home tonight, and my parents don't really mind." She nods, and says "On one condition; please talk to me as long as you can".