Re-post: You get what you pay for.

26 06 2013

Picture this. Route 1 in Alexandria, Virginia. The last trailer park frontier. It is a few weeks before Christmas, December 2011. My friend Karen’s nephew, Austin, is visiting and we decide he really needs to see the most tricked out Christmas lighting display in all of Northern Virginia. After he has his fill of Run, Run, Rudolph in technicolor glory, we pass by a psychic reader’s shop and decide to introduce him to the world of psychics, palm and tarot card readers. I had told him earlier about a psychic reading that my friends Margie and Wendy and I had back in the late 80s (yes, I’m that old). We had nothing to do one Saturday night and it seemed like a fun, if a bit lame, thing to do. Mark it off our bucket list, shall we say?

Austin is all up for it, then we see this handwritten sign on her door and we are all a tad disappointed. It is freezing cold outside, but we decide to call her anyway. We spend most of that time amusing ourselves with comments like, “hey, if she’s so psychic, shouldn’t she have known we’d be here?” Oh, and of course I have to proofread her sign and do a little tsk-tsking. It takes her quite some time to get there, but we decide to stick it out. So much for that 5-minute guarantee; she could have at least thrown in a free aura assessment to make up for it.

Karen, Austin and I all pay our $5 (or was it $10?) for our individual readings; Michael abstains. The “psychic” is so quiet, I miss almost all of my reading, but I do some nodding, furrow my brows, and toss out those oohs, aahs and sighs that one would be expected to do when one is getting information that could possibly change your life. Austin apparently likes what he is hearing, though, and says he can’t wait to try it again. Maybe one day I’ll tell you about that 1980s reading. It was pretty awesome, even for an extreme skeptic like me. She was my first—you never forget your first.

Route 1 psychic woman’s cell phone number has been blurred to protect her privacy, but if you’re psychic, you’ll figure it out.

I fervently hope that she spent that $30 on a tutor to teach her how to spell.



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