A cookie would have been easier.

I just realized I left my last post with a declaration of eating tainted food and perhaps getting a view of big ol’ corral in the sky. And then I did not post for about a week.

So before you all start having a bidding war on who can get the multicolored pillows with the dongles and the fetching neon blue Converse, I thought I’d drop a line. I did not sadly [And I’m looking at you.] die from food poisoning, but instead my best friend came into the town and I resolved to do nothing beyond hanging out with her.

Projects for school? No. Emails? No. Blogging? No.

I have a couple stories from her trip here, but the most bizarre was a late night visit to a psychic to get our palms read. Her assertions were…well…let’s just say you get what you pay for.

We were waiting to go to a death metal concert [J’s band.] and had about an hour to kill. Sitting around my dining room table staring at one another, Sarah mentions we should go get our palms read.

“I know just the place!”

It’s a couple blocks down the street I live on and sometimes find myself passing it thinking that one day when I’m bored enough or the mood hits me I will go in and get my palm read. We drive over and hit the bell on the door and a girl that looks about seventeen, in a pink shirt and a long denim skirt, opens the door. Two hyper Chihuahuas yipping madly run to greet us and she chasing them into the back and closes the door to what looks like her kitchen.

Sarah asked if I could come with her into the adjacent room, but after being reminded that readings should be private Sarah goes first and I settle into the foyer. It looks like a tattoo parlor. Same crummy couch, same atmosphere of faux relaxation. The door to the room where Sarah and this girl sit is the consistency of cardboard and I hear lots of exclamations of “Oh!” and “Really!” and tentative questions. So much for privacy. Sarah comes back out and now it’s my turn.

We went into a room just slightly larger than my closet and I noticed this gaudily ornate altar with a mishmash of Jesus portraits, candles, stones, feathers, and mojo bags. We sat down at a small table and she asked me to lay my left hand on the table and to ask one question to myself and one out loud. I thought hard but all I can come up with on the inside is, ‘Well…I’ve got a case of the munchies…and…I’ve got nothing. How about the old staple of love? Yes, love. What about love?’

Out loud I blurted, “Where am I going in life?”

Her eyes popped a bit and she leaned back. At that point I’m glad I didn’t mumble a question about the meaning of life. She leaned back forward and her upper body shifted sideways down toward the table, peering into my palm

“I see you…” Her brow furrowed. “Will have a long life and with hard work you will get to the place you want to be.”

“Oh. Really.” Just like a fortune cookie.

In a serpentine manner, her upper body moved to angle herself above my palm. “I see that you’ll be living near water. That could mean a lake, a river, an ocean. A large body of water. That will be great happiness and openness for you.”

“I…Oh. Okay.” She obviously does not read my blog.

“You will have two children.” Just as I planned. Fantastic.

“Are you in a relationship?”

“That’s… er – complicated. Let’s see. There is a couple of things – ”

“I knew it! I see two men!”

Psychic humor. Great.

“Okay, well, one is from your past and that won’t go anywhere. The other, well, he’s going to open up to you in so many more ways. I see a long future there.”

Insightful. That’s a fifty-fifty chance there.

She sat up straight. “Do you have any questions?”

I looked at her and flex my fingers. “Ah…no.”


10 Responses to A cookie would have been easier.

  1. Thebutton says:

    Yeah, palm readers are interesting people. I remember a couple of years ago Bry and I went to a Ren. Faire and there was a Russian palm reader. Naturally, my hubby being the Russian linguist, wanted to go to his booth. He wanted $80 for a reading but took the meager $20 we had instead. He pretty much said we wouldn’t be together forever, that I’d make some major statement publically when I’m 35 and that Bry would die early. All that stuff is faaaaaar ahead in the future, but I seriously doubt that he was correct. C’mon, $20 and some kid jabbering in broken Russian to ya…that’s gonna get ya a good reading.

    It was fun though and glad you guys got to have the experience as well. Ya always have to do something you have never done before.

    Oh, and yes, I did chuckle to myself when she mentioned you’d live near water. Hydrophobe and an ocean right there, I don’t think so.

  2. firewings says:

    $20 dollars! Crazy! Mine was 5 smackaroos. This is what that gets you.

  3. E says:

    $5-$20 a pop?!? I see business opportunity! How much does a big sack of fortune cookies cost? Simply memorize a few good ones, mix it up a bit, and then… PROFIT.

  4. firewings says:

    This may be your calling, E.

  5. E says:

    Unfortunately I think I lack the air of “Mystic Guide to the Cosmos” and my Gypsy/Russian/Spanish-speak is bad but not significantly “choppy.” This goes without saying that I lack the “musty, old house down on the corner” and any material to build any respectable shrine. Maybe I’ll just start with a turban…

  6. eatsbugs says:

    I’ve had my palm read. It was much the same. And this was at a book at a public block party in town. Big deal. $20. I was told: love, success, career, family, blahdy blah.

    I certainly didn’t get twenty bucks of anything but some creepy lady holding my hand.

  7. The Rebuker says:

    Maybe fortune-telling is just this big, conspiratorial front for people with hand-holding fetishes.

  8. firewings says:

    What do people with foot fetishes do? What is their front?

  9. E says:

    What do people with foot fetishes do? What is their front?

    Um, shoe stores? Bonus: less cryptic monologue effort.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: