My Moon is Descending

My sister wants me to visit a medium she says is spot on. Her request reminded me of a visit I made to a psychic a few years ago.

Psychic: What brings you here today?

Me: I’m looking to get my taxes done.

(A blank stare froze her face momentarily.)

Me: Obviously, I’m joking. But if you have to ask me why I’m here, doesn’t that sort of contradict the whole psychic thing?

Psychic: I’m a spiritual medium, not a mind reader. I offer two services. Card reading and speaking to people who have passed.

Me: Passed what? Kidney stones?

Psychic: Passed away.

Me: Oh, yeah. Okay. I’d like to do both actually.

Psychic: Great. I’ll get the cards set up.

(She sifts through some junk on her desk and then pulls out an oversized deck of cards. She carefully places several cards onto the table and forms a diamond shape. One by one she turns the cards over so they are face up.)

Psychic: Hmmm. This is interesting.

Me: What’s interesting? Why do you have that look on your face? Am I going to die soon? Is that what the cards are telling you? I knew it. Holy crap. I knew it. Oh my God. When? Where? How? It’s a terrorist attack, isn’t it? Those Bastards. Let me guess. New York City, right? I’m going there next month. Wow. All of a sudden it’s really hot in here. Whew. Am I having a stroke?

Psychic: Calm down. I was commenting on the positioning of your cards. (She points to a card on the outside of the diamond.) See here. Your moon is descending into Jupiter.

Me: Ma’am, my moon has descended into a lot of places, more than I wish to discuss here, but Jupiter ain’t one of them.

Psychic: No, this means you’re likely to experience financial hardship soon.

Me: Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m dropping $150 on this reading. I could have told you that. What else are the cards telling you?

Psychic: There’s significant energy coming from your arcana.

Me: Oh yeah. Sorry. I had Chipotle for lunch.

Psychic: My Dear, you have many secrets. You’re expending too much energy protecting those secrets.

Me: No, that’s still the Chipotle. I’m squeezing really hard.

Psychic: You should release some of that energy. It’s limiting your potential, particularly with your planets out of alignment.

Me: I don’t think you want me to release that energy just yet. Let me hold onto it a while longer. At least until my moon and Uranus are no longer in close proximity.

Psychic: Someone is here with us. Someone is coming through.

Me: Who?

Psychic: He’s telling me B. Someone with a B name?

Me: No clue.

Psychic: Or maybe it’s an S. A large older man with an S name. White hair.

Me: Santa?

Psychic: Oh wait a minute. He’s speaking to me.

Me: Tell him I want a new iPhone for Christmas. The 128 gigabyte one.

Psychic: He says he’s sorry. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

Me: Wait. Uncle Sherm? He was an asshole. When I was a kid he used to dress up like Santa and sneak into our house to drop our gifts off. My parents thought it would be cool if we woke up and came out to the living and stumbled upon Santa. Well, one Christmas Eve I heard a noise coming from down the hall. So I got out of bed and crept down the hall to see what it was. It was uncle Sherm. He was dressed like Santa but I knew it was Sherm. I could smell the whiskey. He was bent over placing gifts under the tree. I wanted to surprise him. So I snuck up behind him and screamed MERRY CHRISTMAS, SANTA!! Well, I scared the shit out of him. Instinctively, he extended his arms and swung around. He knocked me straight into the Christmas tree. It took him and my parents two hours to extract me.

Psychic: Is there anything you want to tell him.

Me: Yes. I should have pushed you into the fireplace, you drunk prick. I had tinsel coming out of my nose for three solid months. Do you have any idea what it’s like for a boy to go to public school with silver tinsel hanging out of his nose?

Psychic: People who have passed don’t harbor earthly feelings. It’s all peace and love and forgiveness.

Me: Yeah, okay. It’s uncle Sherm. Watch this. Tell him I’m the one who found his whiskey stash in his basement and poured it all onto the grass in the backyard. He was pissed but he couldn’t tell anyone because he wasn’t supposed to be drinking.

(The psychic paused for a moment before her eyes popped open wide.)

Psychic: I stand corrected.


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