The boy and the fortune teller

Some people don't want to have their fortunes told, but but who isn't curious about their future? Brian wanted to get his fortune told since he was maybe 8 years old. Ever since he understood what a president, a movie star, and a professional athlete was, he wanted an early peek of his future like he used to take with his Christmas presents to see if he was going to get what he wanted.



But when’s the right time in your life to have your fortune told? It’s weird to think that if you went to a fortune teller 8 years ago, they'd tell told you about these past 8 years. How would they even describe those 8 years? So much and so little had happened. You’re going to go through college, you’re going to date a girl for 3 years, you’ll work in New York, your Aunt Ellen will die. I mean, anyone could have guessed that. But if you asked me to guess what’s going to happen in the next 8 years, I wouldn't know where to start. We assume we don't know what the future holds, but maybe, and this is kind of sad, if we had to take a guess about the future, that guess would be mostly right. Like what if we actually already know our future and it’s just the thing we most expect to happen.



****



That was a stoned thought Brian had the night he went to visit the psychic. He had finished his last day at his job a few hours earlier and had 8 days off before the start of his next job. He hated his job but it was a pretty safe bet to be a solid career. Now he was headed for a much less certain career and found himself very curious about his future. Not afraid or worried, but definitely the most curious he had been since maybe the night before starting freshman year of college. He wrote an email to himself that night. Wow, it would be interesting to read. He kind of vaguely remembers what it says but decides not to dig up the actual email. It’s probably pretty lame.



Anyway, he was really proud to get his first job but was bored immediately once he got there. It’s kind of a burden he put on himself when he was trying to find a job. He wanted to 1) have a job that he liked and 2) have a job that other people would be impressed by when he explained it. He wishes he could say that he just wanted a job that would impress other people so he could get hired for jobs he would like better, but he knew he also wanted a job where if he was standing at a bar and someone asked what he did for a living that he could…I don’t know…impress them. That's not that bad of a thought, is it? He can’t be the only one that thinks that. I doubt the guy who wrote the letter before freshman year of college would understand that.



Brian never considered how big a part of a life his job would be. In college when people asked what job you were going to do next year it felt as inconsequential a question as “where are you going on break?” or “what’d you do last night?”. Our jobs just didn’t feel so permanent; we didn't think it was something that would last so long or be so hard to change. I guess it felt like when you asked someone what their major was, you asked because you knew it was a big decision and would tell you something about that person’s life, but you never genuinely cared because you knew you didn’t have to sit in those classes with that person.



****



Quitting his job was kind of an epic moment. He sort of wished he could have had it on film. We record and post and share everything in our lives except the moments that we want to remember the hardest.



****



That’s what Brian thought 8 months ago when he sat up in bed naked and stoned passing a bowl back and forth with his boss’s boss who he just had some of the most unbelievable hotel business trip sex with. He couldn’t believe that under that suit and that harsh meeting talk and even that HR speech during orientation that there was a woman under there that wanted those things done to her like that. Who would have guessed? None of his coworker buddies that’s for sure. How they arrived in bed together was a story so forbidden to tell that he almost questioned if it was worth it. Keeping their sex a secret almost caused him more agony than it was worth. Almost. He so badly wanted to tell someone about it. He definitely wished he could watch this one again. It would have been better porn than any porn he’d ever jerked off to. If he could pick another sexual episode to have recorded it would be the first time he had sex. Bridget was so pale, so nervous. When I see girls her age, I can’t believe I ever had sex with a girl that young. I know I was just as young but still, it almost seems wrong. I wonder if she figured out what she likes in bed yet. She seemed so terrified the first time. Are girls naturally terrified of the first time they have sex or has society just been whispering things in their ears up until that point that make them terrified. Girls just sort of seem terrified of everything. My boss’s boss Genevieve wasn’t afraid of anything. Not in the office and not in bed and I guess that could be Bridget one day.



****



His direct boss one time talked to him about hitting on girls and some of his thoughts and strategies about it. Honestly it seemed like some of the better girl advice Brian received. It was weird coming from an older married man though, it sort of made Brian wonder if years ago his dad had ever walked to get coffee with a younger employee and gave that guy some girl advice he had learned before he had picked up Brian’s mom. Either way, Brian’s boss would be asking Brian for advice if he knew what happened between Brian and Genevieve. God, Genevieve used to bitch Brian’s boss around so hard. It was so righteous the way Brian banged her.



A dumb smile wrapped around Brian’s face as he once again relived the details of the sex. Wow, to have been able to film it.



A video recording of him quitting would have been sweet. He strangely had to resist the urge to laugh as he stood in front of his boss's desk relaying the message. When he walked in his boss didn't even lift his head from his paperwork but once Brian got rolling his boss stood there dumbfounded. It was the first time he got to tell his boss “this isn’t good enough”, something his boss had said to him so many times. What you’re doing and who you are, it’s just not good enough for Brian. Brian was surprised with how offended and how personally his boss took it, but when you boil it down, quitting was basically Brian telling his boss “I don’t want your life. Your job isn’t cool enough, your pay isn’t high enough, your wife isn’t hot enough, and your kids aren’t great enough”. Yeah, Brian’s boss shouldn’t take it like that, but honestly if he does take it like that, he’s not wrong.



****



Anyway, Brian was a free man reflecting on his future and his past stoned in his living room, roommates asleep. 8 days to do whatever he wanted but not on vacation. What the hell am I going to do? Everyone else is at work. Isn’t that kind of sad that without work in the city you have nothing, nothing to do. Retiring doesn’t seem great at all. At least not if you’re going to do it alone.



****



Brian had been on the couch 20 minutes longer than he wanted to. He was supposed to leave for the psychic but had been lost in stoned thought. There wasn’t really a deadline, if he was awake ten minutes later he could borrow time from the morning and sleep ten minutes longer. The psychic kept the same hours as the pizza place next door which kind of made him think the whole business was just meant to take advantage of drunk tourists, but whatever.



Brian stood up. He checked his pockets for his wallet, keys, and phone and then headed out with a jacket into the late October night. He wore his heaviest jacket because it was 45 degrees and breezy and he was determined not to be cold. Not yet. He would have to be cold in January when he didn’t have a choice but here in October, he had the means to stay warm and was going to use them at the expense of style and bulkiness.



Some cities have a lot more psychics than others. New York has a lot of psychics. I wonder if that’s by virtue of demand or supply. Maybe there are a lot of people who move to New York and are trained in the future-telling business or don’t know any other trades so they set up shop and people see these places as they walk by and think "hey, why not?". Or maybe New York is a place full of people desperate to know their futures so if you’re a fortune-teller you have to come to New York because it’s where they need your business the most. Brian preferred the second narrative. A city desperate to know it’s future. In the absence of facts to explain something, he chooses the explanations he likes.



****



He walked for 8 minutes and arrived at the shop. The first thing he noticed was how much red there was. So much different than a lot of the neon on the rest of St. Marx. St. Marx had to be where he was getting his fortune told. It seemed like ground zero for that sort of thing. Like the time he had gelato in Florence or molly in Ibiza.



Besides the color of the room, it was its smell that stood out. Older woman smell, but he had sort of braced himself for a place that would smell funny so maybe that's why it wasn’t completely jarring. Nobody was inside the shop but the door made a little ring so Brian assumed that meant someone would be notified and with him shortly. He wondered if there would be a secretary like at a doctor’s office to come set up an appointment. Maybe there would be an apprentice? Is fortune-telling something you get better at and improve on over time? I was under the impression you were just born with it but now that I think about it I’m sure in their minds it’s a craft that’s learned over time.



He was looking around the shop and saw a picture of an eccentric looking woman in purple and green gowns and a more normal looking woman with very similar facial features but dressed like an archaeologist. They both stood smiling arm in arm in front of the Taj Mahal. They were both attractive. Brian always felt relieved when he saw an attractive older woman. It made him glad to think that in 20 years it's very possible he’ll still be attracted to his wife.



****



“That’s my twin sister,” a voice said. Brian swung around to see a slender blonde woman. She was dressed again in gowns and maybe 8 years older than the women in the photo but still the same amount of attractiveness. Brian was always ashamed with how quickly he perceived someone’s attractiveness. Especially when it came to women.



“How about you, Brian, do you have any siblings?”. It felt kind of funny to be answering a question from a psychic. How many siblings do I have? Like shouldn't you already know? How are you going to be able to know things about my future if you don’t already know readily available facts about my life? Maybe she did know and she was just making small talk. She knew his name though, was that crazy? Maybe not? He now realized how stoned he must be because he had instinctively handed her his debit card out of habit and I guess it was the right thing to do because she had taken his card and read the name from it. Recovering, he offered his first attempt to test if this was a scam by proctoring a lie. He responded, “3, one younger brother, and an older sister and older brother”. He decided to leave out the fact that he had a younger sister. She didn’t say anything. She just looked up from behind the counter and smiled.



It’s so strange to be paying a psychic. Like if you’re so powerful how come you can’t just make yourself rich? It really brought this woman back down to earth. Seeing her swipe and fumble around with a credit card machine, Brian caught himself thinking: “You act like you’re so removed from the life we’re living: the materials and the daily bustle. You’re not. I bet you watch TV and heat food up in microwaves. This is your job, just like the street meat cart on the sidewalk and the taxi driver on the road. At the end of each week you tally up how many palms you read and fortunes you told and you open that register, take money out, and walk home”. His next thought was wow this really is beginning to seem like a scam.



****



He then realized she had been watching him. Head slightly tilted with her mouth smiling gently through closed lips. It was a face he remembered seeing on elementary school teachers while they patiently waited for the dumbest kid in class to give an obviously wrong answer to something. The look on the outside said “please keep going you’re doing great and I’m proud of you” but Brian thought the teachers must have been thinking the same thing as the rest of the students: "uh oh, you’re dumb, I can’t believe you think this way.”



She walked through a door that was just beads hanging from the top of an open doorway into a backroom. He didn’t follow but instead pulled out his phone because he assumed he’d be waiting. Seconds later her head popped out through the beads still smiling and she gestured him with her hand to come follow him.



Brian walked through the beads to see her sitting down on a comfortable chair with a table in front of her and a less comfortable chair opposite her. She was staring at a clear ball filled with swirling silver clouds and a light inside like a snow globe. There were burning candles casting incense into the air. What a cliché. If he couldn’t predict the future, at least he could have predicted how people predicted the future. This is exactly what they use in movies to describe fortune tellers. Then he second guessed himself and thought well maybe these are just the tools people need to actually tell the future - you wouldn’t be surprised if you found a stethoscope in a doctor's office would you?



Brian took the seat opposite her and sat politely with his hands folded in his lap. He wasn’t sure what to do at this point. He kind of wished he had googled “how do psychic readings work” before he got there so he wouldn’t have to be caught off guard. That’s kind of the whole purpose of this trip, to avoid being caught off guard.



****



She seemed like an especially calm person, but suddenly her face kind of passed over with some amazement or maybe shock and she whispered “Oh my! your little sister”.



Brian, interested but skeptical responded “what??” and she just waved him off now regaining her composure. The vision inside the ball seemed to be changing because it was swirling even faster now. Then she closed her mouth and it seemed like she had stopped breathing. She shook her head side to side gently without breaking her gaze with the ball. Brian was getting excitedly curious and leaned forward as far as possible in his chair and tried to crane his head to see the same part of the ball she was looking at. As he leaned in he felt her grab him and kiss him. It was one of the more passionate kisses he had been a part of. Brian was caught by surprise and his hands instinctively rose to either side of him palms facing her. After about 15 seconds of kissing she shoved him back into his chair.



She stood in front of him now and in one motion slipped off her gown. As the gown fell to the floor, it revealed a lean body wrapped in surprisingly feminine lingerie. He was not finished registering her body before she launched herself at him and straddled him as she kissed his neck and reached underneath his shirt nails digging into his back ribs. At first his hands were still in the air as if to avoid being charged of any fault in case someone should walk in but soon after he realized he might as well just put them on her wherever he wanted.



The more he grabbed and felt her the more she seemed to be into it. Once he became turned on it made her all the more into it which spiked up his desire even further. He thought to himself, “She’s throwing herself at me, she is throwing herself at me”. There’s sex with girls who want to have sex with you and there’s sex with girls who love you and this definitely felt like the latter. Why did she love him? How could she have even arrived at that feeling?



He almost started to laugh when he began to think “why is this happening?” but he knew that question was a function of his mind-wandering high and needed to be replaced with thinking about the naked woman at hand. She reached into his pants and stepped out of her panties one leg at a time in a matter of seconds. Brian was nearly jealous that he wasn’t the one to undress her had he not been so taken away with the whole experience. She started riding him rhythmically as he sat in the seat.



It was a good thing he was high because he knew that would allow him to last a little bit longer than usual and anytime he started to feel like he was close to cumming he would just start staring at the crystal ball whose clouds were now slowly spinning in circles.



At first she seemed to be only focused on his pleasure, but now, through no doing of Brian’s, she was clearly starting to enjoy the sex herself. As she sat in his lap she took her hands from behind his neck and held them both in her hair, her face becoming flushed and her pelvis starting to move faster in more emphatic motions.



Seeing her do this brought Brian so much closer towards climax that he suddenly became determined to control the pace of the sex leading into his orgasm. He stood up with her hanging from him like a koala bear on a tree and swiped the crystal ball off the table in front of him. After taking a second to make sure the ball landed softly on the rug, he laid her down on the table and entered her again. He remembered her face as he did this. It looked afraid almost. She was staring at him with an expression that read “what are you going to do to me?”. Brian had no idea why she would seem afraid or even nervous because she was the one who started it all.



As he started to climax he looked up towards the ceiling. Someone had showed him a video once of a male lion in the wild orgasming and he felt kind of like that. She laid there watching him, mouth open with facial expressions matching the pleasure she felt. The only thing she said was “Yes, yes, there it is” followed by a whispered repetition of the phrase “there it is”. Once he came he collapsed on top of her and she held him in her arms with him still inside her. He slowly rolled over and the table was too small to support the roll so they both fell onto the soft rug. This was the first time either of them laughed and they were still wrapped around one another. He was now on his back and she was cradling him on her side. He let out an exhale as he stared at the ceiling that had stickers of glowing stars and moons like his childhood bedroom used to have. He giggled kind of and still looking at the ceiling asked her, “So what did you see exactly?”.