Desperate Times Call for …


Questions? Call A Psychic

Anecdotal evidence indicates that psychics, astrologers, palm readers, Tarot card shufflers, numerologists and other paranormal specialists have become the rage as investment advisers and brokers appear clueless. After all, if the times aren’t normal, why not try the paranormal?

I am so torn about psychics. I want to say “I do not believe and they are bullshit.”  But I hear them doing readings on the radio and often it is vague nonsense they are spouting. But once in awhile, they will say something that is so far out of left field and staggeringly correct. I want to simply believe that everyone gets a strike once in awhile when they go bowling.

I have called a psychic hotline and visited one once. The phone call was an expensive waste of my time.  I called to ask her if  I should move 3 hours away with  my boyfriend, the fucktard who told me “I got promoted and am moving to Wichita and you are welcome to come along.”  A clear case of “If you have to ask, you stupid bitch……….”, right?

My psychic told me to only do it if I really wanted to and to proceed with caution. LIKE I NEEDED TO PAY $2.99 A MINUTE TO HEAR THAT?  Worse, the call was on the phone bill, so of course he found out.  Listening to him carry on at that moment wasn’t nearly as bad as the next 2 years with the constant “Why don’t you call your psychic?” to any question I asked him.

The in-person visit was scary. She was a very large old Peruvian woman. She had a thick accent and a touch that left me cold. She wore flowers in her beautiful upswept silver hair and had eyes that could seemingly see through walls.  My normal smartass bullshit was nowhere to be found.  She scared the hell out of me, man!

She poured some sand in a bowl and poked around at it as she questioned me. Most of the answers, there too, were rather vague and gleaned more from paying attention than from patterns in the sand. I was a young woman: I was obviously nervous.  So it stands to reason, I had a definite purpose for being there. I wanted an answer.  I figure, a similar scenario would have had the similar girl looking for dead people, financial woes,  or romantic answers.

So I got vague answers to a question that was easily discerned.  I was not a happy camper. She was wrapping up the visit since I was unwilling to pay for her “potion.”  She had me draw a card and lay it flat on the table, face up. I did and she proceeded to give me information about my problem in shocking detail.  Some of it was about him; personal, specific facts. More frighteningly though, were the instructions:

“Take the tiny wooden shoe and turn it so the painted side does not show. In exactly one week , turn it back around.”

1. How did she know I possessed a tiny wooden shoe?

2. How did she come to know they were painted with a little scene on one side and plain on the other?

Suffice to say, I can’t totally write them all off as charletans and fakes.  Most are. And I agree, things are so uncertain economically, I can imagine lots of people searching for information. Even when at heart, you do not believe the seer will have the answer, one may visit and ask the questi0n “just in case.”

Advertisements

~ by Layla on March 19, 2009.

3 Responses to “Desperate Times Call for …”

  1. char·la·tan (shär’lə-tən) Pronunciation Key
    n. A person who makes elaborate, fraudulent, and often voluble claims to skill or knowledge; a quack or fraud.

  2. I bet she had her partner break into your apartment while you were consumed by her fearful presence. Said partner noted your tiny shoe collection whilst gleefully sniffing your underwear.

  3. oh shit. i started laughing out loud. that’s not good at work, damn you! 😛

Got Somethin' to Say?

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: