Back when I was in college, a few friends and I wandered around Old Town in San Diego, eating and drinking as only college kids on a break can. While we were running around, two of the girls we were with wanted to visit with a palm reader. All of them are charlatans. All of them. There is absolutely no such thing as a psychic. There are people who are very astute at reading body language, mannerisms, and speech patterns and with these bits of information, they can form reasonably close “predictions” about the person being reviewed.
I know a lot of people believe that shit. I’ve never been one of them. On this particular outing, I simply told the woman doing the palm reading that she was con artist and my friends were the perfect fools to grift for $50. This woman then went on to explain to me that her “gift” was real and began telling me “my story.”
She told me that I grew up poor (could it have been that I was a mexican in a predominantly hispanic part of town?), that I was being raised by and loved my mother (HAHAHAHAHA), and that I was going to die by 35 (the fact that 60% of all young hispanic males were either incarcerated or killed had nothing to do with her prediction).
Needless to say, she was wrong on all counts. I think the fact that all my friends were wealthy and white threw her off her game. Or it could be just as I said, this woman was a con artist with nothing more than a working ability to read (she must have been dyslexic) people.