Earlier this year, a friend and I spent an evening plotting out trajectories for summer romances. We both reasoned that since we are intelligent, attractive, and endowed with the sort of quirks that repel i-bankers and attract intelligent but sometimes financially deficient creative types, we were probably doomed to some very sweaty affairs. We lamented the misery of the summer prior, spent sleeping directly in front of discount-mart oscillating fans, and we made a pact: our (still theoretical) boyfriends would have A/C.
Fast-forward six months. Boyfriends? Check. Icy cool sleep? Check(at least in one case). Imagine my dismay when I read that this harmless little dream scenario is, according to one Judy McGuire, called "appliance envy," and is a bad reason to have sex.
I know, I know, she's talking about sleeping with someone you actively dislike in order to get that sweet, sweet freon breeze. In the grand scheme of things, isn't adding, "has air conditioning/cable/awesome collection of comedy DVDs" to the "pro" list better than scribbling down, "has enough money to try to buy my love?"
(Incidentally, it was all over for me long before the A/C was installed. It was all over at, "I DVR-ed Battlestar Galactica for you." Now that's a good reason to have sex.)