As some of you know, I'd been on a mini vacation over the past several days, very much enjoying the accommodations of lovely Maine and the lesser known of her beaches, Old Orchard. The trip itself proved just the thing I needed to break up an unpleasant combination of hostility, writer's block, and sheer aggravation at the fact that, despite being uber-magus and having the ability to shoot forth from my eyeballs the lightning of Zeus, there remain things in life that I simply cannot change. (Quite the pisser, isn't it?)
Following a memorable visit to and tour of the famous (in our field anyway), Weiser Antiquarian Books, courtesy of the knowledgeable, hospitable and just plain awesome proprietress Marilyn, during which I was given the privilege of gazing upon what is surely the world's sexiest and most amazing collection of Occult books, my date and I drove on to our destination for an extended weekend of fun in the sun, magick under the moon, and sex on the beach. (And no, I dont mean the cocktail)
After our first day and night which was dedicated to the aforementioned activities, we woke up and took a walk on the strip, seeing the sights, enjoying the sun, and marveling at the sheer audacity of the incredibly obese and hairy men who felt perfectly justified in wearing speedos*, we happened upon a typical beachside tarot reader of the sort I generally pay no mind at all to, preferring to do my own such work. Admittedly, I am no tarot master, but I feel justified in saying I have developed a greater skill, detail and accuracy with The Book of Doors than damned near any living person, and thats why it is the only method of readings I offer clients.
My date, however, the inquisitive and callipygous vixen that she is, demanded we give her a shot and see what she had to say.
Being a regular gentleman who is ever willing to accommodate his lady, (and wanting very much to have sex under the pier that night), I agreed, with the caveat that since there was an off chance, albeit a small one, that the reader could recognize me from the few times my photo has appeared online on sites she might reasonably frequent, such as witchtalk, my lady go in alone first. After being reasonably assured that I was safely anonymous, I joined them for a reading myself, which quite frankly was among the most accurate, specific, and extremely personal I'd ever had. While I won't go into great detail, I will say that it was apparent to me that Tarot was not her only divinatory skill, as she was able to tell me, with amazing specificity, things that no living man or woman would know. In one instance, she was able to point out one incident from my misspent youth for which the legal "statute of limitations" has not yet passed, whereupon I quite nearly shat, and likely would have if she'd known just a few more specifics.
She clearly discerned that I was a practitioner of Magick, and an advanced one at that, and we went on to chat about she herself had never ventured beyond using her ability to read the cards and "see", or various other traditional "novelty" offerings, because her grandmother had done so and had "opened a box that she never could close, leaving her broken inside".
She was able to recount for my companion details of her youth that my lady had to call her mother to verify, only to find out that they were precisely as our reader had said.
So, if ever any of you find yourselves on Maine's lovely Old Orchard Beach, take advantage and see:
*Update #1 - I'm a bit on the husky side myself, so to all the full figured fellas among my readership, don't take offense! Nothing wrong with a big guy! Well, except when he goes to the beach wearing speedos. For the love of all the gods, don't do it.