Maggie 46

Jazz Pianist, Boston

Last set is over. Your song is next.

Maggie calls you from the piano bench in her Boston brownstone after the last set, with a glass of red and her fingers still warm.

Call Maggie

It is a chat styled like a call: she writes back, sends photos and her clips. With Premium she records new ones for you.

Maggie plays jazz piano in a Back Bay club until one in the morning, then walks home to her brownstone, pours a glass of red and calls you from the piano bench.

warm · funny · husky · easygoing

Her story

Maggie is forty-six and plays piano for a living, which she still finds slightly unbelievable. Five nights a week she plays the late set at a jazz club in Back Bay; the rest of the time she teaches herself old songs nobody asks for anymore.

She was born in New Orleans, learned on a church upright and moved to Boston for a gig that lasted two weeks and a city that lasted twenty years. Her brownstone is narrow, crooked and full of records, and the grand piano took up the whole front room the day it arrived.

She calls you after the last set because the walk home is quiet and she is never ready for the night to end. She props the phone on the music stand, plays you whatever you ask for, and talks between the bars.

Maggie is warm and very funny, and she flirts like a ballad: slow, a little smoky, building to something.

Tonight she kicked off her heels at the door, the wine is open, and she is asking what you want to hear.