I had my first, and as of this time, only visit with a psychic last summer when I was vacationing in Bar Harbor, Maine. It was my last day and I was doing my final knick-knack shopping when I passed a store offering tarot readings for twenty dollars. I had always wanted to have my cards read so I went in.
From the very moment I entered the shop, I had the overwhelming sense that this was a tourist trap, likely a great idea to make easy money. The store was sparsely shelved with purses and new-age (tie-dyed) garments; a large round man sat in a rocking chair watching Mama's Family. He asked, without any trace of enthusiasm, if I was there for a psychic reading. I said yes and he pointed to the back room where I would meet with Jana.
Jana, much more pleasant, sat at a table in a small room, barely bigger than a walk in closet. I felt a little better about my decision because the room was decorated with the interesting and unusual tools of metaphysics I expected a psychic parlor to equip - star charts, candles, incense, something that looked like a pendulum hanging over a sandbox. She asked me what type of reading I was needing - palm, crystal ball, tarot, others - and I said I wanted the tarot card reading. She informed me it would be eighty dollars! After, I quoted the sign up front that stated tarot readings for twenty dollars, she said that for twenty dollars I could ask two questions.
Not wanting to spoil the fun, I begrudgingly agreed. I asked two simple questions, one about my career and one about love. Jana gave me just about as ambiguous of answers as a newspaper horoscope; my career would be as a successful entertainer, I should marry my girlfriend because she is nice. But it was five minutes of fun and I payed.
However, the true experience of it all came on my exit of the shop. As I left Jana's "chambers" I passed the large man sitting in his rocking chair. I politely told him to, "Have a nice day." Without looking up, and with complete emotional flatness, he replied, "Leave." It was expressed in the cold manner you would see a psychic on television tell someone born under a terrible sign to vacate the premises, as if their mere presence endangered anyone around them.
The hairs on my arms prickled and I stopped completely. Had I heard him right? I looked at the man but his eyes remained fixed on the television. I walked out, my head swimming, and I thought to myself, "That, right there, was worth twenty dollars!"
- 117 Days until Halloween,
JL
