I saw today the headline and newsbyte of an article about how a psychic got it massively wrong regarding Amanda Berry's disappearance many years ago.
I visited a psychic once. After much pleading, a friend finally succeeded in dragging me to his mentalist's house in suburban Wilmington. When I walked in her home, I was confronted with a number of screaming children. Soon, a diminutive, obese woman with bad hair came up to me. She was pleasant and handed me her card. It had a lotus flower on it with the words "Kamala Shirley" in red, cursive letters.
Shirley took me to her basement and sat me down at a flimsy card table with illegible graffiti carved into its vinyl covering. Taking a worn deck of regular playing cards, she began asking me why I came to see her.
"Because my friend dragged me here," I said.
"Ah. Well, I hope you don't mind I use regular cards." As if I cared.
Presently, after much shuffling and random laying down of the battered cards, she told me I would meet a woman with long dark hair, get married and have many children.
I thanked her and went to sit in the car while my friend had his reading.
