Me: Brooklyn wiseass, 24, delusions of grandeur and mild egomania. Eager to tell you about his novel and his perfect GRE score. Thinks he’s smarter than anyone. Literary poseur par excellence.

That, or: dancer-while-sober, reader-of Barthes-in-the-subway, empath. Good conversation. Maybe brilliant but learned a long time ago that isn’t really what matters. Wants to help cook dinner and make some art afterwards. Sure you’ll teach me something.

You: highbrow sexpot seeking one-night stand who knows more Proust. Cunning lit-cougar wanting something gorgeous to bring to the salons. Feted ingenue looking for an equal.

Anyone, really, as long as you’re intriguing. And willing to do me the favor I’ll do you: that of looking for the best in someone.