I was at the pharmacy yesterday waiting for them to fill a prescription. This old lady, who was also waiting, was walking around doing palm readings for people. She was well into her eighties, wearing a blonde wig, a fake fur coat and poorly fitted false teeth. She had a heavy smell of inexpensive perfume. Her skin was wrinkled and tan, like a catchers mitt. She went from person to person, correctly identifying each person’s astrological sign, and telling them a little bit of vague information about their present and future. She told one girl to dump her unemployed boyfriend. She told another guy how many kids he had, and which ones to keep an eye on.
She came over to me and took my hand. Then she looked at my face.
“You’re fucked,” she said.
I was a little surprised, and the others in the waiting area looked a little stunned as well. I said “I kind of figured I was.”
She said “Sorry, you’re a very nice man, a Pisces, right?”
“Yeah, you’re a nice man, but you’re fucked.”
I shrugged and said “Well, thanks for telling me anyway.”
She smiled and said “At least now you know.”
Then she paid for her prescription and left.