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Friday, June 3rd, 2005
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11:55 pm - New job.
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I recently got a new job as a psychic. It wasn't difficult to land this job; they didn't ask for much. They simply wanted an intelligent, reliable individual to give psychic and tarot card readings.
I was both excited and a little worried about starting my new job. I was excited because it would be an interesting job and would pay well, but I was worried becuase I lacked psychic abilities. I was okay with that, though, because the owner of the psychic shop told me upfront that no one she employs has psychic abilities. Of course, that made me a little worried that the FBI was going to bust in and arrest us all, but I don't suspect that would occur anytime soon--this was a new shop! There couldn't be too many reports filed yet.
On my first day all I had to do was sit with another psychic and watch what she did. I watched as she read the individual as soon as they came in and she let me in on a view secrets. One being that if they're dressed well, they likely have money and are more interested in learning of about his or her love-life in the future. If they're dressed poorly, they're more interested in any financial information you can provide.
With that information I knew all I'd have to do was tell well-dressed people they would soon find a mate that loved sexual relations and had lots of money. And with the poorer folk, all I'd have to do was tell them they'd win the lottery and, if they asked, they would also find a good mate.
That pretty much sums up the first day--obviously not too eventful or interesting, but I was thrown a curve-ball on the second day.
I was never prepared as to what to do when an extremely old person walks in wanting a psychic reading. I couldn't help but wonder what the fuck this old slut was going to ask me. I was shocked by the questions she asked and what came of it.
First she asked me if she would meet her dead pets in heaven. I quickly replied with, "No, you're not going to heaven."
She was a little shocked by my response and I couldn't do anything but smile--and, of course, try to hold in my laughter.
She starts questioning my unquestionable abilities to get in touch with the other side and to predict the future.
First, she asked me about her husband. She just asked how he was, health-wise. I replied with, "I don't think he's doing so well; the decomposition is really eating away at his flesh."
She, being old and barely able to hear, said, "Huh?" I shortened my answer by saying he was dead.
I was right. I looked at her and realized just how old she was and thought that saying he was dead would likely be my best bet.
She was still skeptical, though, and asked me how old she was. I was stumped, but I'm a quick thinker. I told her to close her eyes and concentrate, while gripping my chrystal ball tightly. I then began to count the wrinkles on her face. A couple minutes and a lot of counting later, I quickly replied with, "4152."
She was INFURIATED. She quickly grabbed her purse, started swinging it at me, and ran out through the curtains, yelling, "He's a fake! He's a fake!" I yelled at my boss, "Hey, that can't be good for business."
Unfortunately, my boss confronted her and tried to calm her down. She asked the old lady what happened and she told my boss. I was fired! :(
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