The flimsy, metal folding chair I was sitting on shook a little under the weight and force of my startled reaction.
“WHAT? You can’t SAY that to people! Why would you say that to PEOPLE?” I hissed. I did not want to disturb the person getting their cards read in the next booth. Nor did I want my sister, who was sitting on the other side of the curtain, to hear what he had told me.
“I’m not saying that to ‘people’ I’m saying that to you. You are going to start seeing someone late next year, you are not going to be careful when it comes to sex and by the end of next year you will find out you are pregnant. Don’t worry, though, he is going to turn out to be your true love and you will have a proper family together.”
As if the clarification was reassuring to me. I was a 35 year old single American woman who had escaped a lifetime of wedded misery to a psychopath and was immensely enjoying all the perks of the single life, including spending 10 days driving all over the gorgeous country of Ireland with my sister. I prided myself on my single status…no man was going to hold ME back again.
But here I was, getting myself virtually knocked up by an Irish carnival worker.
It was Jenn’s idea to go to the Tarot reader. After getting high on Butler’s Chocolates, we wandered through a Dublin market and saw the tarot reader set up at George’s Street Arcade.
“Should we?” she asked.
I studied the maroon colored sign hoisted outside of the wooden booth. “Tarot Readings Are Still Available Here”, it read.
“Tarot Readings…are still available here…even though we’ve had complaints and may or may not be in legal trouble,” was how I read it.
Hell, we were on vacation. And I kept saying I wanted to go to a psychic. This was the next best thing, right?
You have to know a little bit about me. I’m a cynic. I can’t help but think everyone has a little bit of…how do I put it…sheister inside of them. I was damned and determined I wouldn’t give this guy one ounce of encouragement to go on.
The session went something like this:
Him: You will be making a large investment in a couple of months. Maybe you have been house hunting?
Me (arms crossed): Oh, ya?
Him: What I’m picking up from the cards is that you are at a crossroads in your career. Does this sound familiar?
Me (arms crossed): Hmmm…I’m not sure. Go on.
Him: Well, I see you will be making a big effort to continue with this new path.
Me (arms crossed): Hope so.
Him: You have family matters that are yet to be resolved.
Me (arms AND legs crossed): Yup.
Him: They will be resolved by the end of next year.
Me (arms and legs crossed): Cool.
Him: There is someone you are attracted to. And he is attracted to you too.
Me (arms crossed): Good.
Him: You will become pregnant at the end of next year. You won’t be careful about sex and the pregnancy will be unexpected. But you will ultimately form a family with this guy because he may be your one true love.
Me (standing up): WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? ARE YOU BRAIN DAMAGED? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS? I CAN’T CARE FOR A CHILD! I’M OUTTA HERE. SMELL YOU LATER!
Ok, I *might* be exaggerating about my reaction…but you can imagine my displeasure.
I never really thought the information would come in handy.
I was mistaken.
Four months later I was floating in my sister’s pool and having an unpleasant conversation with my mother about an endless family feud.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I reassured her, “according to the Tarot reader from Dublin, it will be over at the end of this year. Also, apparently I will be pregnant at the end of this year. OH MY GOD, the baby will bring us all together! THA BABYEEEE! My baby! We’re going to mend fences with my baybeeeeeeeee!”.
Neither the sentiment nor the three margaritas I had prior to the conversation were appreciated by my mother. Although, I found myself quite pleased with the way I able to string these two predictions together in a logical way.
Hot damn, all of a sudden the $50 for a reading in Dublin seemed worth it!
Plus, I’m a sucker for a good joke!