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CONJURING TRICK

The door is padded red leather. So far, everything is just how I expected it would be. The madam’s office is off the entrance hall. It’s a madam, a woman, even in this place that serves women. Maybe that’s a universal, maybe both men and women need a nonjudgmental but maternal type to confide these things to. Nobody would want to tell a dirty old man. Anyway, the madam sits me down on a dark soft couch. This is an office for business, business with the wealthy — old walnut furniture, dark green desk blotter, banker’s lamp with its oblong green glass shade. I had thought that my expectations must be naive, fancified out of old TV western saloons bubbling with dancing girls, so I’d be completely wrong and be surprised, and now I see how perfectly those expectations are met.

My friends sent me here as a present, like a luxury massage or facial. Quite an effort they made to get me a reservation here, too. February 14 is their biggest night.

Point by point, I describe him. She interrupts only now and then to clarify. “By not too tall, you mean not over six feet? Not over five foot eight? Hair on his chest? Soft or wiry?” Her questions are matter of fact, never prying. She does not, for example, say, as I feared she might, “Valentine’s Day alone just got to be too much for you?” in that over-intimate, friendly tone that facialists and masseuses do sometimes adopt.

When I think I have exhausted details she asks for more. “He tells you that just once, or several times? Softly or loudly? Fingernails ridged or smooth? How much pressure in his fingertips? And personality?”

I query her on this last one.

“Most find the experience more enjoyable if there’s enough of it to last the session. So...reasonable knowledge of alternative music? No, miss, that’s not a problem. A rather interesting thing — it’s a sense of humor that really causes a drain. But that doesn’t mean we can’t manage it. Shall I put that down? Fine. That’s all? Fine. Well.”

No cherubim or seraphim here. No lace.

She holds her right hand out at her side about shoulder height and with a sweeping motion snaps her fingers.

He materializes. Is there by her side out of nowhere, out of nothing. For an hour, I can do whatever I want with him.