The future beckons

In the afternoon, "all-seeing" New Yorkers call to unsuspecting tourists who roam the avenues wearing that look of "you could probably take me for all I'm worth." The collapsable wooden signs promise absolute clairvoyance concerning about what's to come. As I weaved in and out of groups of middle-aged moms donning walking shoes and ankle socks, I accidently ducked into the path of an olive-skinned woman with bright blue eye shadow and long reddish finger nails.

Oh, crap.

"Your aura is red, dear," she said tsk-tsking.

Normally, I tune out the Midtown bustle, but this is something I had heard before. Two years ago, I interviewed a psychic for a piece I was working on, and she "had a vision" while talking to me.

"You have a red aura."

"I like red." (Sarcasm abound)

She went on to reveal more about my future including the what-I-think-every-young-woman-wants-to-hear: a love story finessed out of thin air.

"You'll bump into the man you're going to marry on a train, but you'll already have met him. He'll be a photographer, at least in hobby, maybe even for a living."

This still makes me laugh, and she was obviously playing off of what she could already assume about my life: I was unmarried, a writer who enjoyed the company of other creative-types, and someone who had just told her that she was interested in working in a major city. Still, today's aura forecast was familiar, so perhaps a bit more credit is due.