As it’s been another hot one here in Toronto, I once again decided to take advantage of the AC in my local Laundromat on Queen East and set up my Fortune Telling stall.
Shortly after setting up my table, a young girl came in off the street and asked me if I could read her fortune. She was probably a young high school student, and she wanted to know if she should “do” some guy named Gerasim or not. As she sat at my table, she actually called the guy on the phone, “Yeah, Gerry, I’m talking to some old fortune teller dude right now. No. He’s white. Does it matter? Fuck! It shouldn’t matter, sometimes you can be so prejudice! Anyway, he’s going to tell me if I should screw you. Yeah, I’ll call you back.” And then she flipped her cell phone shut and gave me a look as it to say, “well, come on!”
I quickly found out that Gerasim worked at the girl’s local video store and was actually 36 year’s-old. I sternly told the girl that the cards said a union between the two would be disastrous and bring great misery to her and her family. She seemed relieved to hear this, and immediately called the guy, telling him, “Nope. He says you got crabs and I’d be better off with Jemarcus. It’s not my fault, it’s what the cards said!”
Although the girl only paid me a loonie, I felt pretty good about the session as I’d helped prevent her from making what I thought was going to be a very bad decision. About an hour later I guessed an old man’s age (intentionally going low) and we then we sat together and chatted for a few minutes. While this was going on a nun came in and began to do some wash. I noticed that she was looking over at us, giving me a bit of the eye. After a spell the old man went out to continue his bottle collection (Monday is recycling day on our street) and I was left alone with the nun.
I smiled over at her, asking genially if she’d like me to read her fortune.
She fixed me a look.
“You think you big man with your fortune cards,” she began in an Eastern European accent, “ you are not. You are leettle devil man child. Prophecy belong only to God, not to moron in Laundromat!”
I was taken aback and wasn’t sure what to say, so I just shouted out. “I give people hope!”
“Ah, hope! Hope in devil! You bring devil to weak people! You know what your future is? I tell you, devil man, your future is purgatory. Yes, purgatory forever. Like in spin cycle, around and around forever, you and your blasphemy fortune in purgatory!”
“I thought nuns were supposed to be nice, “ I stammered.
She just wagged her finger, “Prophecy only for God! Purgatory for you, false prophet!” And then she twirled her finger in a circle, as if to suggest my eternity in a purgatorial spin cycle.