Monday morning, 28 December, in holiday mode with three kids:
Phone rings: Do you do the tarot cards?
Sylvie: Yes I do
Her: Do you do anything else?
Sylvie: Yes. Runes, Palmistry, that sort of thing. *this segues into my usual intro…*
Her: So you’re not psychic…?
Sylvie: I’m empathic and intuitive, but where people want a psychic I refer on, cos that’s not my area.
Her: Cos I don’t do cards.
Sylvie: Okay.
Her: Cos you could go to one reader and they’d turn over one set of cards, then go to another, and they’d turn over something else… Do you know what I mean?
Sylvie: Okay.
Her: So do you have anyone else I should contact?
Sylvie: I suggest you phone a psychic.
This human actually phoned me to dis my profession, and my practise, in preference for finding someone who wouldn’t just tell her anything that comes into their fuzzy little heads.
Cheers for humans interrupting me on holiday to speculate on my legitimacy.
The business is called Tarot@Dunedin!
Maybe a psychic could find a clue in that name for you?
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