Madam

I’m standing in a crowd, waiting to cross the street. There aren’t any cars coming so a family steps off the curb, but the moment they do this greasy, long haired street preacher type starts bellowing Don’t walk, it says! Don’t Walk! That means you ain’t supposed to walk!

Being me, I’m contrarian enough to cross anyway, and the guy is furious, following me and shouting in my ear. I try to lose him, cutting across campus and ducking into a large, official looking house. It’s unlocked, empty except for a few stray pieces of furniture wrapped in plastic, evidently in the process of being redecorated.

An attractive and professional woman in her late thirties or early forties comes in and I apologize and explain my situation. She’s very understanding and friendly and shows me through the house, explaining the design plans.

We really hit it off and she invites me back to see the progress. I begin visiting regularly, dropping in when I’m in the neighborhood, eventually realizing that rather than a bed and breakfast as I’d thought, the house is going to become a bordello, and my friend the madam. I witness the whole process, the decorating and the hiring of the girls, helping whenever I can..

On opening night the woman says You’ve been such a good friend. I want to give you a freebie, on the house. You can pick any of the girls you like.

Oh, come on, I say. You know who I want.