“The thing is,” he said, slurring his words, “wishes aren’t as rare as you might think. You just have to be lucky.”
“Wait,” I said, “you found a magic wish?”
“Yup. At a garage sale. Found this little antique bottle made of blue glass. Bought it for a dollar twenty five. When I got it home, I accidentally knocked the cork out. Thought it was empty, but this smoke man came out. Some kind of genie. He gave me one wish. Nice of him.”
I waited while he drank again. When he didn’t say any more I prompted him.
“So, what did you wish for?”
“Huh? Oh, that. I told him I had trouble with girls,” he said, letting out a loud belch. “What I wanted more than anything was to be able to look at a girl and know what I needed to do to get her to want to sleep with me. So, he waved his hand and that was it!”
I adjusted my skirt to cover my legs more as I imagined this man naked in my bed. I would have got up and left but, damn it, I had to know.
“Did it work?”
“Yup!” he said, with a grimace. “Every time I look at a woman I can see tiny words on her forehead. He tricked me, though. It’s always the same words, and they’re in some foreign language.”
I worked in the Modern Languages department at the University. I knew four languages (six if you count Pig Latin and Visual Basic), but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“What does it say?”
He leaned in towards me and stared at my forehead. His eyes took a while to focus.
“Give,” he said slowly, still staring at my forehead, “Rohypnol.”
I put my drink down and walked away.