The bookstore is lined with all kinds of wackadoodle books on spirituality, witchcraft, and anything you can think of. Kiosks packed full of sage, incense, candles, oils, and crystals dance in the aisles. Oh, and chimes, there are many many chimes.
We stop at the "menu" board that lists names and specialties next to them. A smattering of talents are on display such as Tarot, Medium, Past-Lives, Angels, Palms, Numerology, Clairvoyant, Astrology Channel, Photo-reading, Healing, Psychometry, Palms, Tea Leaves, and on and on and on.
Overwhelmed by the offerings, we opted to take a lap around the store to get a sense of the readers (they are set up at little tables around the perimeter of the room). I immediately spot my guy. He's in his late fifties, long white ponytail, glasses, dangling a crystal over some cards... yes, it had to be him.
We continue our lap around the store to shop our other options. One woman is shouting on a Bluetooth, which Whit initially mistook as speaking to the spirits. She chooses a nice stout redheaded woman, but it turns out Red didn't do readings, just spirit paintings or someshit. So instead, she just took the first available.
We register at the front counter and decide that I would sit with Whitney for part of her reading until Ponyguy was finished with his current foo--I mean, clients. Her psychic walks up to greet us, and looks straight at me, "Whitney?"
WOW. That was the first clue that she didn't really have psychic powers. It pretty much took every single molecule in my body not to break down in laughter and defecate everywhere. I'm not sure that sage could clean that up.
So we settle in with her lady, Blondie, let's call her. At Blondie's request, Whit places her feet on the ground and her hands in Blondie's. Blondie asks Whit what brought her in today, and what questions she had for her. This took us both off guard, as we didn't know that we had to come prepared with life questions/problems.
Whit asks about the general future. Blondie swings and misses a tragic number of times. Whit, being the sweetheart that she is, keeps trying to lob her some softballs and get her back on track. But all in all, Blondie was a very nice lady, but that was about it.
Ponyguy is ready for me! I quietly slink off to his table...
...To be continued...