Arle was not your average reader. No, no, quite the contrary. I am certain she was possessed. If she was simply crazy, I’d have had no issue with our encounter. As I am not afraid of crazy, as a matter of fact, I am well adept at dealing with it and have a soft spot for it.
As I stood across from her in her decrepit Lower East Side apartment, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
“Why didn’t I just do a phone reading? It’s so much easier to hang up when they turn out to be creeps.” I thought.
“We need you to spread our message. You must tell those who walk the world of the living that the true Lord is coming.” She growled at me.
“Oh shit.” I thought.
“They must bow to the true Lord or suffer the consequences.”
Suddenly I felt as though I was in a horrible remake of Ghost Busters (and I hate remakes) standing on the crumbled rooftop staring down Zuul the Demigod Gatekeeper minion of Gozer the Destructor. I watched as Arle, whose picture online was that of a lovely blonde haired, blue-eyed beauty, was now foaming at the mouth. Her teeth were frighteningly yellow, and her lovely blue eyes blood shot. Too much partying or demon possession will do that to you.
“That’s so great, I’ll remember to do that, by the way is my Uncle here? I came to speak to him, remember? We spoke about that on the phone…”
“Enough.” she barked. “Silence human.”
“Human?” I thought. “We’ve skipped right to species profiling, the first step before total annihilation. I have got to get the hell out of here.” I thought quickly yet oddly enough I was not panicking.
“Tell us that you will do it. Use your talent as a filmmaker to spread the word. Bring us those that will kneel before the true Lord. Swear your loyalty to us and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest imagination.” she slurred.
“So THAT’S how Hollywood does it.” I thought. “It really is who you know.”
I’d had about all I was going to take of this particular reading. While I totally appreciated the fact that I was witnessing a real demon possession, I did not appreciate the waste of my time AND the expectation of exploiting my talents for world domination and no pay. I wanted to speak with my Uncle and seeing as he wasn’t available at the moment, I was ready to get out.
“What do you say human?” She continued.
“Arle, thank you so much for thinking of me for your world domination script, unfortunately I am booked through 2010 and do not accept unsolicited materials. Best of luck with your future endeavors.” With that, I turned on my heels to let myself out of her crypt-like dwelling.
“You cannot leave us. You must do this. It is your destiny.” Arle lunged for me ripping my vintage Chanel sweater. I stepped back allowing her to stumble onto the floor.
“Bloody hell! What is wrong with you, you animal!.” I screamed.
“We have made a mistake.” Arle whispered, a sad lump of flesh sprawled out on the floor.
“You’re damn right you have.” I screamed, now really pissed off. “Do you you what you have done?”
“We should not have messed with you.”
“This is vintage Chanel! I can’t replace this.” I shrieked, tears welling in my eyes.
I was furious, my head was about to blow clear of my shoulders. Arle looked up at me with a blank stare, utterly confused as to why I wasn’t frightened of her. If she had used her gifts she would have seen that I suffer from irrational fears, not rational ones, so while a giant elevator might send me screaming into the night, demon possession did nothing. But ripping my vintage Chanel would set me off into a apocalyptic explosion the world has never seen.
“I am not paying you one nickel for today, you raving lunatic. You are a criminal. You should be locked up for what you are doing. And you are so going to pay for this sweater!” I yelled.
“We have chosen poorly. You will destroy us.” she mumbled cowering in the light of my rage.
“That my dear, is the only thing you’ve said today that is one hundred percent true. Go bath in holy water before somebody drops a house on you.”
I threw open the door and let myself out, mumbling and cursing like a sailor all the way back up to midtown.
When it comes to the land of psychics, there are really so very many amazing ones. Yet, like all things in life there are also those who are not standing on the right side of the divine.
In short, there is really only one vowel difference between psychic and psycho and there is no replacing a vintage Chanel.
Till Next Time,