Talk About Sex: An Orientation

TALK ABOUT SEX: AN ORIENTATION/ Jamie Callan The little room has a purpose the way Puritanism has a purpose but we don't want to go into it & talk about sex, we don't want to pay someone to sit on a bed & talk about sex. Lewis Warsh "Elective Surgery" ALL I'M GOING TO DO IS TALK. That's right—you're going to pay me to sit here and talk to you. Let me explain—I come to your hotel room, I always wear something nice, maybe a jacket and matching skirt, or a simple dress, pearls, always stockings, always heels, always tasteful. I sit on your bed, cross my legs, smile, and then I talk about sex. You're not allowed to touch me. That would be breaking the rules. I talk for exactly forty-five minutes. I always finish on time. I charge three hundred and fifty dollars. I accept all major credit cards and I am completely discreet. If, for example, I bump into you on 58th Street, and you are going into the Paris Cinema, I will not acknowledge you and I will not talk to you. That would be breaking the rules. Yes. The rules. There are seventeen rules altogether. The most important one is that you do not touch me. I know I already said that, but it's worth repeating, don't you think? The second most important one is that you do not touch yourself. And the third most important rule is that you appear and remain completely dressed. You don't have to wear a suit or tie, but a nice sports coat and a pair of khakis or well-pressed chinos is appreciated. You may not eat during the session. This isn't actuaUy on the list of rules, but it's common sense. Obviously it's hard to talk about sex when a man is chomping on a pastrami sandwich. And there's the smell to consider as well. It gets distracting . So no eating. However, you may drink. Cola, orange juice, bottled water and beer or wine—in moderation—are all acceptable. No hard alcohol. It dulls the senses, and you just won't get your money's worth, not that I care, but you might. I provide none of these refreshments . It's up to you to keep them in the fridge, and if your hotel doesn't supply you with a fridge . . . Actually, if you're not staying in the kind of hotel that supplies you with a completely stocked fridge, then I probably won't be visiting you. 70 · The Missouri Review I will not accept any beverages, so please don't offer me any. However, if my throat becomes dry after talking for a time and I need a glass of water, I will get up and fetch it myself. You don't need to bother yourself; I will take care of getting it and work the interruption seamlessly into my conversation. You will not even notice a change in tone, so don't imagine that you can get an extra five minutes at the end for lost time. There will be no lost time. Now, the "menu," as I call it, is extensive, updated weekly, and includes not only the classic favorites such as the man who gets caught in a rainstorm and must seek shelter at the home of three nubile teenaged girls who have been abandoned by their parents and are Uving in a woodshed on the side of a deserted highway in Minnesota but also five or six daily specials. For instance, on Fridays I might offer Catholic schoolgirls in plaid jumpers and knee socks who forgot to put on their underpants that day, playing hopscotch on the sidewalk in front of your enormous split-level house in Mamaroneck, eating pork chops on a Friday, when Father O'Leary comes along and must find a way to teach them a lesson and punish them. This one takes place in 1967 and it's a favorite with fifty-three-year-old Jewish men from Westchester County. Of course the list is computerized, alphabetized and on the Internet. I do have a...