Among all of the places and people I met last week, I feel like the most interesting – well, no – the most memorable were the three psychics. Three, random, self-proclaimed psychics.
This is happening more and more. People thinking they are psychic when they’re not. Which is really disappointing. What a let down, when you realize that they’ve confused being psychic with just being “aware” or “smart.” It’s even more disappointing when they aren’t even that “smart” or “aware.”
Back to the witches.
I wasn’t looking for a psychic, but there they were. And not just one, three. Like the fabled Three Wise Men, only they were women and none were wise.
The first two were competitive about their psychic ability and decided to prove their talents by yelling out psychic inclinations (also known as “facts”) about the people in their immediate surrounding. I was their second victim. One described the neighborhood I used to live in. The other described the color of my aura. Neither were correct, but I played along.
The third psychic was drunk. Only, she didn’t know she was drunk. No, wait. Maybe she knew she was drunk, but was trying to play it cool, like she wasn’t drunk so we wouldn’t notice. If she was really psychic she would’ve known that we all knew she was drunk because, well, she was slurring when she was telling us about her psychic ability. If she was really, really psychic, then she would’ve known she was going to make an ass out of herself if she would start drinking.
Now thinking about it, psychic number three never really technically used the word psychic. She said she was intuitive. But, I have a strong feeling (could this be my first premonition?) that she, in fact is not intuitive. I’d even venture to say that she’s not very good at solving puzzles even when the answers are on page 158.
But, what do I know, I’m not psychic.
Mari de Armas 