Fortune

A historical landmark had a Halloween mixer last week. At the mixer was a psychic giving free readings. I, of course, made a beeline for the free food, and after I was done eating, visited the psychic.

We had a rough start.

"Do you have a roommate?"

"No."

"No roommate?"

"No."

"Well I see you've been close to an older woman recently, a mother figure perhaps?"

"We're not close. I haven't spoken to an older woman in quite awhile."

"Oh." She pauses and flips a tarot card over. "Boyfriend?"

"Er, no." I started to feel bad for her.

"But I see a..." and goes on to describe Adam perfectly.

"We were dating, but not anymore as of yesterday."

She looks at me, horrified. Why, I don't know. "And you weren't close to an older woman over the breakup?"

"Nope."

She flips a card, on it is a picture of a woman. "Another woman?"

"Yup."

Her eyes panic again. She obviously feels terrible for me.

"It's not how you think. We're going to be friends instead," I try to assure her.

"Let's not talk about him anymore."

"Okay," I shrug.

She flips five cards over rapidly, all pictures of men. "You're going to do just fine. There will be a lot of men for you this year."

Is it possible for a psychic to make you feel slutty? Cause I'm pretty sure that just happened.

She flips another card. "One," she smiles broadly, "will be of marriage potential. You will get into a serious relationship with one of them. He will be a marriage prospect."

I try to smile, but frankly I don't see that as anything to smile about. I just want a date to the Christmas party, not a ball and chain. The idea of relationships still terrifies me.

She flips again and gasps. "This," she makes sure to make eye contact with me, "is the fertility card."

In short, I think she saw a young single girl and assumed that I wanted to get married and have babies. This, however, is not the case. Regular sex would be nice. Oh, and apparently I'm going to seriously look into buying a house within a year.

Back at home, I log onto my computer to see my speed date results. I just want one yes, even if I didn't like him, just for the sake of my self-esteem. The results pop up and I scream.

8 of the 13 men checked yes to me. That's over 60%. My self-esteem soared. I click back on my speed date profile and see I had a message. It's from #7. Seven wrote and said


Yeah, I bet a made an impression. A great one, however, I'm not so sure about. But he had written me within minutes of the results being published and wanted to take me to dinner the next week. If he didn't know that I was stinkin' drunk, then... good for me.

Flash forward to the costume party Saturday night. I lock N in the bathroom with me.

"N, I'm pretty sure that I have my pick of three of your friends."

"I know you do."

"Are you serious?"

"You know they are all best friends; two of them live together. Anyway when you left the room, one said, 'So you're interested in Sarah too?' and the others nodded. They all toasted and said, 'May the best man win.'"

My mouth drops. Stuff like that never happens to me. Well, except for the one bar fight years ago, but that was a misunderstanding.

Of the three men Saturday night, I kissed two and consequently have dates with them this week.

So maybe that fortune teller wasn't all BS. There seems to be a lot of men in my future.