The heart raged and demanded, grew melancholy and confused and toward what end? To articulate what nitwit strategy? Procreation? It told him something, this business of how mind-boggling numbers of s**m competed for a single egg. It was not the other way around. Of course, men would make love at any time and place with any number of women, including total strangers, while females were more selective. They were in each case catering to the demands of only one small egg, while each male had millions and millions of frantic s**ms screaming wildly, 'Let us out! Please, let us out, NOW!' It was like those desperate ads in the Personals column, with a dozen requirements, and if they were not enough, there was added - 'Must be a non-smoker.'
Feldman longed to meet a woman who attracted him physically and had the following personality - a quick sense of humor equal to his, a love of sports equal to his, a love of cla**ical music equal to his and with a particular fondness for Bach and balmy climates. In short, he wanted himself, but as a pretty woman. Pepkin married and raised a family. He led a warm, domestic life. Placid, but dull. Knapp was a swinger. He eschewed nuptial ties and bedded five different women a week. Students, housewives, nurses, actresses, a doctor, a salesgirl. You name it, it held Knapp between its legs. Pepkin, from the calm of his fidelity, envied Knapp. Knapp, lonely beyond belief, envied Pepkin. What happened after the honeymoon was over? Did desire really grow with the years, or did familiarity cause partners to long for other lovers? Was the notion of ever-deepening romance a myth we had grown up on, along with simultaneous orgasm? The only time Rifkin and his wife experienced a simultaneous orgasm was when the judge handed them their divorce. Maybe in the end, the idea was not to expect too much out of life.