A little more than an hour ago I strapped on my small backpack and set out to Trader Joe’s, about a one-mile walk one way.
Along the way I passed by the open window of a first-floor apartment. There was a woman sitting there talking on the phone in some Eastern European language, but when she saw me she said “hang on, hang on,” into the mouthpiece and flagged me down.
“I see good things for you!” she called out to me. “You want me to give you reading? I am psychic medium.”
It was so simultaneously village-wisewoman and just plain sketch that I wouldn’t have turned back even if I’d had any money on me. Although, after all, you never know; she probably takes Visa.
Plummer Park was full of people when I walked by, little kids running around and parents standing by talking to one another, even one homeless guy in a red jacket sleeping on the grass under a tree.
I got to Trader Joe’s and was standing in the baking goods aisle when a woman entered the aisle and stood next to me. She had her arm sticking out and was pointing her finger like you do when you are moving it down a list trying to find a name.
“Organic sugarrrrrr,” she said in a spacey voice, waving her pointing arm around in a circle. “Ah.” Her finger located the sugar and stopped circling, and she picked up a packet and exited the aisle. She didn’t look at me at all during this time.
I got the cream, frozen raspberries, and mascarpone for my cake and headed back. I was walking at my normal pace so by the time I got within two blocks of my apartment I was totally hot and sweating.
[This post was imported on 4/10/14 from my old blog at satsumabug.livejournal.com.]