Believers, or not.

"Excuse me... I see something in your aura."

I'd already stopped during the ellipses to help her, thinking she needed directions. When the second half of her sentence drops, I am still smiling my helpful smile, now unsure how to proceed.

"I see something in your aura," she repeats.

"Oh." What is the appropriate response to such a statement?

"Have you ever seen a psychic?"

"I... no."

"Please take this." She takes a small flyer out of her bag and hands it to me, then looks me in the eye. "Keep a smile on your face and your secrets to yourself. Call me when you need me." Then she walks away.

What a stunning sham! I am the perfect target, of course, all wide-eyed and orange-coated, wandering through Union Square on a Tuesday evening, visions of adopting kittens in my eyeballs. I'm also ever so slightly superstitious and I'll admit to you that the only reason I haven't ever gone to a psychic for fun is because I'm deathly afraid of the whole "self-fulfilling prophecy" thing.

Keep my secrets to myself! How very dramatic. What secrets? In typical fashion, the mind reels through the files, rifling through Middle School un-avowed crushes and online banking passwords. That's all there is to my secrets, a sad fact that begs a New Year's Resolution for 2009: Be more mysterious. Maybe also: Wear more heels.

I know this is what she says to everyone. I am insanely aware of the hook, the line, the fact that my aura (should it exist), doesn't have something "in it" just because she said so. But! What if! Does that mean that my aura should be cleansed? Or is it a positive thing to have something in your aura? Come to think of it, I was feeling a little stuffy this morning when I woke up...

In the end, THAT's really where Tiffany the psychic gets you- when you've gone so far down the aura discussion path that you aren't even debating its existence anymore. Instead, you're wondering what color it is. And how many Yoga hours you have to log before you can see it yourself.

No comments: