Mahala and the Gypsy

I was in Big City a few weeks back with time to kill before Ma's appointment at the bone doc. It was on the far side of town, an area I rarely get to, so I decided to loafer around and see what I could find.

I cruised down the main drag and after I passed all the big shopping centers, with their fancy Wally World and hair salons, I found myself on the sketchy side of town. I passed run down used car lots, thrift stores and discount shoe outlets. I spotted a Goodwill I didn't know about, where I scored a skull shaped cake pan for The Amazon, like this one:

Awesome sauce!

Anywho, pulling out of the Goodwill parking lot, I spotted a tiny brick building that looked like it used to be a doctor's office, only it was covered with signs offering $10 Tarot readings. Some of you may already know that I used to do readings, I sleep with my cards by my bed and occasionally still use them.

But I'd never had a reading by someone else.

I had time and ten bucks, so I decided to give it a shot.

There was a tiny sign on the front door with Sheila's phone number. It said if the door was locked to send a text and she'd be right there. However, I didn't get a chance to send a text and was greeted by a chunky dark haired man leading someone out. He asked if I had an appointment, I told him no and he showed me the way to the waiting room. I followed him down the hallway, past a pile of junk mail in the floor, bare walls and very little in the way of decor.

Big Feller told me to have a seat and went to let Sheila know she had a victim customer. The room was small and white, with words written in large black script on the walls. They read "Happiness," "Love" and "Peace." In the corner there was a ginormous teddy bear, so ginormous that I could have sat in it's lap.

I was tempted.

I would have taken pictures, but in my excitement I'd left my phone in the truck. My mind raced, I was hopeful. I've been to countless psychic fairs & mystique shops, looking for someone, anyone who seemed legitimate, who didn't play on peoples insecurities and grief to make a dollar. I can't handle the wide eyed earth Mothers who see angels everywhere, waving crystals around wreaking of patchouli and weed.

Not that I don't think there are others around us, whether you call them guardians, guides, angels or spirits. I just tend to think of them in a more practical way.

I really didn't have high hopes for this roadside psychic either. I guess I just wanted to see what would happen.

Sheila walked in to the room about five minutes later, wearing a sweater pulled tight around her nightgown, no bra, barefoot. Her hair was short, blonde with black roots and had been quickly assembled in a clip in the back.

She had obviously just gotten out of bed. It was 1pm.

She led me into another room with a table in the center, we sat and she introduced herself, offering her hand, which I took. It was like shaking a cold overcooked lasagna noodle.

"I do tarot, palms, tea, whatever you want," Shirley explained.

"I just want the $10 card reading."

"Oh that's just a sample. A tarot reading is $50." And here we go, I thought.

I explained that I didn't have much time and was on my way to an appointment. I told her that I'd be back another time for a full reading, but I already knew what I'd come to find out.

Her eyes were down cast as she said, "Someone is jealous of you. Their energy is preventing you from being successful. You need spiritual work done to reverse this. I can do spiritual work for you here. You don't even have to come here, I can do it remotely."

Oooookay.

"There is someone you are in a relationship with.. but you are not yet committed to one another. I can work on this for you."

"Um, I've not been in any kind of "relationship" for a long time." She wasn't just way off base, she was out in the parking lot.

"Maybe you do not know yet. Maybe he does not realize it yet, but there is someone who wants to git wit you. You must let me work on this for you."

Yes, she said "git wit you." Her accent wasn't thick, but she had one.

After a few minutes of her trying to convince me that I was in serious spiritual danger from all sides and that for a charge she could fix this for me, I thanked her and told her I needed to leave for my appointment. I pulled out my debit card, which in retrospect was pretty stupid, but it's what I had. Sheila made sad face and told me the machine worked but gosh golly gee, it wouldn't print a receipt.

Really?

"That's ok, I'll just watch you run it." Which I did, then walked around paranoid has hell for two weeks, afraid I'd have a $200 charge show up.

I left disappointed.

I've always believed there are others watching over us and I've had enough experiences to convince me it's true. I'd just like to find someone.. anyone.. who can validate that I'm not losing my noodle.

Ya'll know it runs in the family.

Anywho, back to the grind. Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!