Take booth number twelve. It says closed, but don’t worry about that. I’ll… I’ll come knock when I have something for you. Could be a while. R...lax. Take a load… off.”“Um. Yeah, okay. Sure. Um. Thanks. Thanks a lot.”“Sure, chicka. My pleasure.”I walked down a dark hallway in back, looking for booth twelve. There was a lot of panting and squealing coming from speakers inside little booths with doors. Some were closed, but others were open. I could see they were all set up the same: a short,. Pretty as a picture with a little valise in her hand and their Pontiac out in front. They'd been married about seven or eight months, and Susan had just had it. She'd never realized what she was getting into. Anyone could have told her that he was a monster. But she was a grad student and he was a professor -- I guess he'd just been promoted to associate professor. So she was sold on his intellect and he on her legs or some other part of her anatomy. She stayed with us three or four days --. More

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