"Hi, Jeremy?"
"Yes?"
"This is [unexpected person]"
"Oh, hi..."
"I'm just calling to check if you are alive."
"Well, uh, I am. Why would you think that I wasn't alive?"
"I had a dream that you died."
In which I had a massive heart attack, and she was assigned to write the obituary.
"Was it a nice obituary?"
"The dream didn't really go that far. But it was sad."
"If they run a photo with it, make sure it's a good one." (Like maybe this one from NinaNet, which a friend recently suggested I use if I started online dating.)
"Anyway, you're not dead."
"No, I'm as healthy as an obese horse."
"And, I'm not psychic, so everything's okay."
"Thanks for checking, though."
"Have a happy memorial day. Bye."
Three seconds later: But, wait, what does she mean, And I'm not psychic! I mean, I presume she means that she's not clairvoyant, since being able to sense when someone a thousand miles away had died would count at least in my own (deceased) mind as being "psychic". But, even then, presumably since she doesn't think of herself as someone who has the ability to see what is happening elsewhere simultaneously, she would also be unaware--until some stunning confirmatory example--of her ability to have visions of the future. So, now I am sitting here convincing myself that I am not, sometime later today, going to drop dead here at Borders. (BTW, if I do, somebody make sure Dorotha gives all the marble magnets of mine that she's "borrowed"/stolen back to my estate.)
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2 comments:
i didn't steal them from you, jerk! i was going to clean them, remember? i just haven't done it yet. gah!
Perhaps you've read about the scam where some con artist offers to clean your magnets and then you never see them again (or at least never again unless you frequent area pawnshops).
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