My Psychic Menage-A-Trois

 

To celebrate my birthday, two friends (Roni and Susan) and I went to a psychic. This was no ordinary psychic.  This was a psychic who had been on TV and who cavorted with other famous psychics and who was here for a one-time-only event.  I was sold. Count me in and take my hard-earned cash. Here’s what I now know for my next time with a psychic:  Do NOT have a psychic ménage-a-trois. Unlike getting tangled up in other people’s body parts, doing the same with psychic guides and spirits can result in confusion and a total inability to climax.  

The psychic started with Susan. Susan was told very emphatically, “You are a writer.” Now, I know for a fact that the only creative writing Susan does is emailing gross sexual innuendos to prospective matches on www.plentyoffish.com. I, on the other hand, moved my derriere  to the extreme edge of my seat and directed all of my thoughts toward the the psychic to inform her, via telepathy, that she was speaking to the wrong person.  It didn’t work.  The torture continued: 

“You are a writer.  I see short pieces.  Something like short stories. And other short pieces.”  Susan looked completely stunned, as though someone had just informed her that she would participate in roller derby.  I, on the other hand, began to sweat. 

“You will be very successful in getting your short stories published.” Susan finally responded, “I don’t write and I have no intention of ever doing so.” 

The psychic was not to be deterred. “My spirit guide is very clear about this.  You will write short stories and they will be published.” 

Susan began to check her manicure.   I began to inch my chair closer to hers so that the spirit guide could see that he had made a slight error, resulting in completely ruining my life. 

The psychic continued: “There is a book called Writers Market….” While Susan completed her manicure check and began to pick lint off her pants, every brain cell I had was screaming, “I KNOW about Writers Market!  I could WRITE Writers Market!  I have exhausted countless highlighters making note of which literary agents to contact! I have notes in all themargins, detailing all of my rejections! THIS MESSAGE IS FOR ME!” 

By the time the psychic moved on to theother areas of Susan’s life, I was exhausted.  I sat in a stupor though details of how Susan would lose weight (by eating pineapple close to the core) and meet the love of her life (Robert or Bob, for all you over age 55 single men out there) online.  I woke up only briefly during Roni’s session when the psychic said, “You like cute shoes,” and Roni responded, “Well, no more than anyone else.”  Wait! I love cute shoes! Me! Me! Look at the cute shoes I am wearing now!  It got worse. “You will visit Paris and buy cute shoes.”  I want to visit Paris and buy cute shoes!  Why can’t I do that?

 By the time it was my turn, I felt like the major areas of my life had been appropriated by others (writing and wearing cute shoes).  It didn’t matter that I was told my oil paintings would appear in galleries in New York and I would be making a lot of money and be famous and live part of the year in New York.  I just want to write and wear cute shoes.  Seriously, is that too much to ask?