I have a chick magnet. I bought it online. $9.95. Came in the mail last week.

First time I use it, it works like a charm. I put the chick magnet in my right front pants pocket, as instructed in the user’s manual, and approach a pretty woman I’ve seen standing on the street corner near my apartment almost every day for past several months. She’s on the corner in the morning when I leave for work. She’s on the corner in the afternoon when I walk home for lunch. And she’s on the corner at dinnertime, too, and late into the evening. I walk by frequently and she always returns my smile. Sometimes I walk by even when I have no place to go, like on the weekends.

Her name, I know, is DeeDee. She always wears short skirts and tight tops. She also wears pretty shoes that have clear high heels, which, from a distance, make it appear like she is floating just a few inches off the ground. And she has the cutest walk—she takes these short happy marching steps.

I’ve wanted to speak to DeeDee for the longest time. I have seen many men approach her, and she is always receptive and friendly. I am nervous, like I’m always nervous when I ask a woman out, but knowing the chick magnet is in my pocket gives me confidence.

“I was wondering,” I begin, “if you might like to go out on a…”

“Date?” DeeDee says the hardest word for me.

“Yes,” I say happily. “A date.”

She accepts quickly and reaches out to take my hand.

“My friend has a car right over there,” she says, pointing to a well-maintained, bronze Chrysler 300.

In the back seat of her friend’s car, DeeDee is very affectionate. Immediately. She takes off her top without my even asking. The date ends quickly but DeeDee seems to be as satisfied as me.

“Can I have forty dollars?” she says.

I feel guilty that I haven’t taken her to dinner or even for a cup of coffee. I give her two twenties.

“Do you want to see me again?” DeeDee asks, folding the twenties into her tiny pink purse.

“Of course,” I say, not even trying to hide my infatuation.

+

I stick the chick magnet to my fridge and study her closely. She is about three inches tall. She is a bendable magnetic statue of a curvy woman with no clothes on. She has a layer of rubbery flesh that is both firm and soft. The chick magnet’s face is old-fashioned pretty, and she has wavy blond hair. If real women were the size of my chick magnet, men would eat them. The chick magnet’s feet have a stronger magnetic charge than her head. She sticks to the fridge well enough, but gravity, in the form of her big rubber hair and big rubber breasts, causes her to slowly slip into a legs up position.

+

My next two dates with DeeDee are nearly identical to the first, in the backseat of her friend’s Chrysler 300. I’m comfortable inside Chrysler 300s because my mother and both of my aunts drive Chrysler 300s. By our third date, DeeDee seems to be going through the motions. She asks me for the forty dollars as soon as we get into the car.

I don’t mind the forty dollars every time we go on a date. I don’t mind DeeDee’s narrow definition of a date. Forty dollars is really no more than I would have spent on her if she were the kind of girlfriend who liked to get flowers every once in a while. She’s my girlfriend and I’m happy to give the money to her.

Friendly, yes, but Dee Dee is not a pushover. One time I saw DeeDee get into an argument on the corner with another young woman. Their dispute seemed to be about who got to the corner first that day. DeeDee slapped the other woman right across the face, and I thought that would be the end of that. But DeeDee continued to slap the woman even after the woman had fallen to the ground. Then Dee Dee pulled the woman to her feet by her hair and gave her quite a push to get her on her way.

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I work as a scheduling coordinator at a free law clinic. I schedule appointments, reschedule appointments, and cancel appointments. The attorneys cancel more appointments than the criminals. I should say that some of the clients are not criminals—I hate being cynical.

I have a crush on one of the attorneys, Miranda Lopez. She’s about forty, but she dresses like she’s seventeen. I’ve heard the other attorneys around the office say that she isn’t a very good attorney. I believe this is true. We have a party in the office every time one of the attorneys wins a case. We’ve never had a party to celebrate one of Miranda’s cases. Still, she has a very sunny disposition. And wonderfully white teeth.

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The more I look at the chick magnet, the more I see her resemblance to DeeDee. This must be why the chick magnet doesn’t seem to work with other women. Not like it works with DeeDee.

I send an email to the manufacturer to ask if they has plans to market other models of the chick magnet, perhaps a chick magnet who has dark hair with short bangs and who isn’t so buxom but who is trim and Hispanic. The manufacturer of the chick magnet does not respond to my email.

+

Much as I like DeeDee, it is clear to me that she does not see our relationship as exclusive. It’s obvious that she is not looking for a long-term commitment, and I know that she is seeing other men—I see her seeing other men in the Chrysler 300.

I take the chick magnet of the fridge and use a black magic marker to change her hair color. I use some of my mother’s makeup to darken the chick magnet’s complexion. There is little I can do to reduce the size of her breasts, but when I pinch the chick magnet’s back, he chest flattens a bit in the front. I place the remodeled chick magnet in my right front pants pocket and begin to think of things to say to Miranda when I get to the office.

But as I step out the door, I see Miranda standing on the corner—DeeDee’s corner—speaking with the woman DeeDee had been unfriendly with. I freeze in my shoes, but Miranda sees me and calls out my name. She waves me over, and introduces me to her client. Her name is Jennifer and she has bruises on her eyes and cuts on her chin.

Jennifer shakes my hand and says, “I spoke with you on the phone yesterday. When I made this appointment.”

Miranda smiles at me and I smile back. She is going to win this case.