Darwin should have spent more time studying human behavior. It would have made the animal kingdom appear more evolved.

~ ~ ~

Now, what I’m about to say is done so out of the kindness of my heart, notwithstanding the fact that human nature is suspect under most circumstances.

Some of us have enough soul to communicate without ulterior motive, unless you consider lambasting a motive.

Let’s just say that people “acquire” what they can as long as they can get away with it.

“I’m an 18-year-old college coed with a beautiful face and flawless physique. I know that my popularity is tied to these features. And while I may struggle with the fact that physical beauty opens doors before anyone knows my first name, I tend to get over it. For a while, anyway. As I enter my mid-20’s, I notice changes, feel the pressure of expectations that force my hand to make decisions that challenge my ability to simply exist. Now I must do. But I’m addicted to the attention without having to lift a finger, and people now expect me to do something more than present well. Oh shit. Okay, let’s see. I have a degree in Business Administration, so I guess I better start sending out job applications. Seriously? I’m sending out job applications? For what? So I can prove to the world that there is more to me than a pretty face and a perfect ass? Well guess what? It’s changing!  I’m changing. My face is not as young as it was as a teenager, and now I have to workout all the friggin’ time to maintain my object status, which I don’t want to forsake for 60 hour workweeks. Oh dear god, what’s happening to me? I need to get married before I miss this opportunity! But I can’t just do that because then I’m just like every other pretty girl who did nothing with her life, but become someone’s wife and a mother to our children. Of course, the neighborhoods and vacations are nice. But I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet. So I work and date and go to the gym to try to keep it all propped up until I start experiencing radical weight loss, depression and social withdrawal. So I go to therapy, where I discover that women are, in fact, objects, and that I have this one life, this one shot at making it before the flame is gone forever. So I capitulate, marrying a wealthy guy who knows my family. We buy a beautiful hone in a beautiful neighborhood and have two beautiful children. Now I’m 35, divorced with two kids and back on the dating market. I should have stuck with the 60 hour work week…”

More “enlightened” young women at my health club [i.e., less conflicted] embrace their object status and exploit it without mercy. 

They come to the gym fully loaded, ready for adventure and excitement under the pretense of training.

Oh, the train. They absolutely train, primarily their butt muscles, which carry enough firepower to land a nest-egg the size of a Volkswagen. 

They all know the score. All of us do, both men and women.

It’s why no one falls on the floor when they stretch and grind, particularly women who [on some level] respect their tenacity and focus.

One day, those same women will invite them into their lavish homes, and perhaps, introduce them to men far wealthier than their current husbands.

But as we all know, this is normal, well-adjusted behavior in a world where everything is for sale to the highest bidder.

Young men play a similar game. While they are often heard complaining about all the older men hoarding women their age, they certainly understand the power of money, which cuts through everything like a hot butter knife.

“I’m a 25-year-old guy with a great body and wealthy dad. One day I will inherit his business and the world will be mine. Actually, it already is mine, given the number of women I run through on a weekly basis. I know they appreciate good looks, and it’s always nice to find someone their own age. But what they really want is money. They call it security, but I know what they mean. They don’t want no matter what they tell me because sacrificing looks for business opportunity just isn’t worth jeopardizing the nice house and the country club membership. As for me, I’m just along for the ride. I date them and then forget their names. Marriage, or whatever, isn’t in the cards for me until I’m at least 40, at which point I’ll find the hottest 22-year-old on the planet.”  

In both instances, young men and women of this world – of my world – are pragmatic on every level. They know how life works and they leverage everything they have to achieve success as they see it.

This is not as much about love as is about survival of the fittest.

Then they can afford to love all they want.