Recently, a friend invited me to go with her for a reading by her psychic. The friend swears by this psychic-cum-tarot-card reader and insists that she would never make a major move in her life without consulting this woman.
Um,” I said hopefully, “my car broke down this weekend and I’m going to have to replace it and I really don’t know how I’m going to afford it. Could this be what this means?”
“That’s nice,” I said. “But what I really need is a car.”
I passed on my friend’s offer of a reading with her psychic. Too old for the stress, I said.