“Let your angel spirit guide you,” the turbaned psychic lassoed me with his hypnotic voice. “I will reveal your fate – love and career. Will you rise to the heights of fame and fortune?” he lifted his eyes and arms toward the heavens then let them sag. “Or will you be an abject failure? I will tell your future. Ten bucks.”
“Ten bucks could buy enough beer to forget my past,” I smiled and pulled away.
“I’ll pass.”