Twenty Pesos and a Friday Night

I should go out more. That’s what I’ve concluded after I had my fortune read for the very first time.

The fortuneteller was nothing like I expected. Maybe that’s because I watch too much movies and television. The stereotype I have is that of Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost conning her way by using eerie voices and weird eye movements.

There was nothing supernatural about the way she looked. She was a fairly thin lady of about mid-thirties with an open and welcoming demeanor about her. She looked just like one of those mothers who tag along their kids to church.

I wasn’t expecting a life-altering experience. But I did hope I would be told of something even remotely mystical. Something like when Santiago went to that Gypsy woman in The Alchemist. But nothing like that happened. Sigh. No treasure in the Egyptian Pyramids, then.

Three minutes into the reading, I was stuck between the feeling of repressed laughter and the feeling of irritation.

“Where’s your boyfriend now?” She asked.

I shrugged and shook my head. I realize I should’ve said something to enlighten her that my nonexistent boyfriend was nowhere right now. But I guess there was something in my reaction that made her ask the next question.

“But you do have a boyfriend, right?”

“No, I don’t”

“But you had a boyfriend before?”

“I’ve never tried it.”

“You haven’t tried having a boyfriend before?”

I nodded. The last thing I needed right then is a fortuneteller trampling on my ego, rubbing it in my face that until now, I’m a member of the no boyfriend since birth club. But that exchange was still pretty funny, if you look at it differently.

She said that she was asking me these questions because it was clear to her that I have been hurt before and I was very hesitant to “play the field”, so to speak. She then proceeded to tell me about not one, not two, but three guys who apparently like me a lot. Now, the situation from funny became outright hilarious. The catch is: I don’t pay any attention to them. There’s this other guy, though, whom I really dislike and am irritated at. Now, there’s a lot that fit that category.

My cards also say that I will meet someone whom I will fall head-over-heels in love with. But she warned me to leave something for myself and not give my all out to this person because I’d get up getting hurt badly and it would lead to the deterioration of my health. I should also be careful of a married or very experienced man who will show an interest in me.

What is she talking about? This is me, who’d rather spend my Saturday night watching TV or re-reading a good book than go out and party. There are probably five or so guys whom I consider friends, and apart from them, I don’t have any more male acquaintances. And three?! Yeah, right.

And it didn’t stop there. The pattern of cards placed around the queen of hearts that apparently represented me (Yeah, I know, so cliché) showed that my future looks practically peachy. My parents love and think of me, there’s prosperity on the way, and even chances for abroad. Plus, all my four wishes’ answers are yes. Now, does it get any better than that?

Hear a great perspective of your life for just twenty pesos. If there’s an ad, that’s what it should say. These readings were not unique to me. Most of us had similar analyses, which is kind of a bummer, because a part of me wanted to believe that even half of it would be true.

The reading for twenty pesos was not that bad. True, I could’ve gotten all that encouragement and rosy future shtick from my friends for free, but I thought the cards and the palm reading was a nice touch.

I don’t really see myself looking for another session anytime soon. That one is enough to last me for a long while. I thought maybe I should give the forecasts a chance to even have a chance. And that’s when I concluded I should go out more. How else would I meet the two mestizos and the other moreno guy, huh? (*wink, wink*). My life’s a sitcom. No matter how hard I try to look at it as a dramatic saga, it’s a sitcom.

There was one thing that really amused me about the whole experience. It was the first thing that she told me when I sat down and extended my palm. She told me I am intelligent.

Intelligent. That killed me. If I were really smart, I should’ve gone straight home and watched the re-run of X-Files on TV.