Last week I walked down the streets of Sault Ste. Marie with the intention of purchasing a black baseball cap. I didn’t find the one I wanted, and the crumpled Jackson bill in my pocket was starting to burn a hole in my jeans. Returning to my apartment I chanced upon a doorway leading to a fortune teller. I thought this would be a great place to spend my $20, but when I attempted to open the door, it wouldn’t budge.
Across the hall was what looked like an occult shop. I wasn’t interested in what the fellow behind the counter was offering, but I asked if he knew when the fortune teller would return. He didn’t but said she made appointments and handed me her card. I thanked him, left the shop and continued on my way. That’s when another sign for a different fortune teller caught my attention. I decided to see if she was as good as the one I remembered from years ago. I’ll digress for a moment.
In the autumn of 1999, I visited an ex-boyfriend, Jeff, who lived in Grosse Pointe. There wasn’t much to do so we drove to Trappers Alley on Monroe Street in downtown Detroit. It was the first time I had been in the area in 15 years, but the street was about the same. One change I noticed was a sign on a door advertising the presence of a fortune teller. My companion asked if I wanted to hear what she had to say. Having been raised Catholic, I hesitated, but Jeff convinced me it was just a bit of fun. What harm could it do?
We climbed the stairs and found the door advertising psychic readings. Jeff stayed in the hall. He didn’t want any part of the fun. I walked in the room and don’t remember what it looked like, but the clairvoyant was a young person probably in her 20s. I was 52. When she read my palm, the things she told me sent a shiver down my spine. She was spot on. I hadn’t uttered one word and concluded she really did have the gift of psychic powers. One thing she told me was to stick with the new love in my life and forget about the old one. I didn’t mention this bit of information to Jeff.
Returning to the present and my story, I entered the small room where I met the person who told fortunes. I was asked if I wanted a reading with tarot cards or my palm. I chose the cards. The reading was fairly generic. Perhaps this was because I hadn’t paid for a complete one. The cards didn’t show I was going to meet a “tall, dark stranger who would sweep me off my feet,” but they indicated I had a long life and there was some heartache along the way and I had waited a long time for things to change. The fortune teller was very pleasant and appeared genuine so I asked if I could have a $10 palm reading.
I placed my hand palm up on the table. There wasn’t much light, but it was enough to examine the lines running across my palm. They indicated I would have a long life, I had lost loved ones and I was a very trusting person. As I watched the teller’s face, I saw no indication that would signal the cards or my palm showed impending distress. Perhaps I’ll return another day and pay the full amount for a complete reading.
I don’t put too much store in what the tarot cards or my palms signify, but it is fun to hear what my future might hold. I might even discover where I’ll find the exact black baseball cap I hope to purchase in the near future.
To contact Sharon Kennedy, send her an email at sharonkennedy1947@gmail.com. Kennedy’s book, “The SideRoad Kids as Adults,” is available from her or Amazon.
This article originally appeared on The Petoskey News-Review: Baseball caps and fortune tellers | Opinion
Reporting by Sharon Kennedy, Community Columnist / The Petoskey News-Review
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By Sharon Kennedy, Community Columnist | USA TODAY Network
