Papaya Paltrow, The Psychic and The Time Machine is out!

ppm



http://www.amazon.com/Papaya-Paltrow-…

Meet Farrah Sniderman, the heroine of Eliza Gale’s mixed genre tale, Papaya Paltrow, The Psychic and The Time Machine. This Hollywood based, fake psychic finds herself forced to move in with a roommate in the valley after her business has gone belly up due to a scathing online expose written by her ex-boyfriend.

While snooping through her handsome new roommate’s personal effects she finds a time machine in his closet. At first she thinks it’s a phony, but she soon discovers that it really can transport her back and forth in time.

Instead of using the machine to kill Hitler, stop people from getting on the Titanic or prevent any other major disaster, she decides to make her own life better, by using the machine to travel to the past and make sure that she never meets her ex-boyfriend.
Once this is accomplished and her psychic business is alive and well againshe uses the machine to predict the future by traveling back and forth in time. Soon she is soon the psychic to the stars.

In the pages that follow, Farrah travels from one adventure to the next. She reads tarot cards and does psychic readings for everyone from A-list starlets and singers to Bernie Sanders himself. Everything is going great until she travels too far into the future and finds herself trapped in an America that has become a dangerous positive thinking theocracy lead by the heiress Papaya Paltrow.
.
Farrah’s journey through time is populated by a host of characters: the cynical starlet Tamera who doubts Farrah at first but eventually befriends her; the insomniac pop star, whose desperately wants a good strategy for humiliating her ex-boyfriend in public, a positive thinking cyber stalker, who thinks he can make a girl love him just by wanting her badly enough, a futuristic band of hippies who are traveling to San Francisco in 2041 to join the cities succession from America and most importantly, a sixty three year old version of herself.

 

 

You saw a portion of it here first! Here is the whole thing:

 

 

Time (part 12)

clock

Other me got up and began walking beside me.

“What where you going to do if I hadn’t shown up,” I asked her.

“I was just going to stay at the theater all day and night and then go have a meal at Denny’s at around 3:00 a.m. Then I was going to head back around sunrise,” she said.

“Well, for some reason doing that doesn’t end well,” I said.

“Right,” she said.

“We could just go back.”

“Together,” she asked.

“No, then there would be two of us. I mean you go back to 2013 and I’ll go back to 2014.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said.

“I mean, I think it’s probably the best idea don’t you? God only knows what happens to you.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Is there something wrong,” I asked.

“Look, let me ask you this she said, what do you think of Tom?”

“I think…I mean he seems nice.”

“Really?”

“Well, he seemed a little standoffish…,” I began carefully. “But that’s probably because he didn’t get to know me …”

“I’m afraid you …I mean we just traded one abusive relationship for another.”

“Yeah, well he didn’t seem so thrilled when he found out we were together,” I admitted.

“Yeah, well I think that he was only ever with me in the first place because he was so grateful for my saving his job. He rewarded me with his willingness to be my boyfriend,” she said making air quotes.

“He’s never hit you has he?”

“No, he’s just really cold. I always feel like I’m in trouble. “

“Well, if we I mean one of us could break up with him.”

“Yeah, then no more time machine.”

“Right,” I said.

“Look, I think we could both stand to meditate a little bit and since the theater is out I wanna show you a places that’s really pretty cash as the kids say now-a-days,” she said.

We got on the bus and headed to the heart of Beverly Hills. We headed down Bedford Dr. to the basement of a small office building. “Sensory Anticipation Center.” the sign on the door said. We entered the office and other me asked for two tanks. The beautiful blond receptionist told us she had one appointment at 2:00 and another at 2:30 p.m. We reserved them and then we sat down in a dark waiting room that was surrounded by glow in the dark fish tanks.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Remember when we were twenty five and we floated in that sensory deprivation tank?”

“Yeah, that was frustrating, I mean we couldn’t really relax enough to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, well the idea there was to put you in a place where you are unaware of your physical body and can get in touch with your inner thoughts,” she said.

“I remember. If you remember I remember, remember?”

She laughed and went on.

“Well about ten years ago they perfected the tanks and more people started using them. Well, pot use and floating go hand in hand and at first the pot growers association was thrilled at all the business they were getting. Float tank places sold brownies, even. After a while though, people began having epiphanies, they started becoming less materialistic. This scared advertisers and so they came up with these new tanks, you’ll love it trust me.

“Shelly,” the receptionist called.

She jumped up and told me she’d see me in two hours in the decompression room. I sat gazing at the fish, they were quit hypnotic and colorful, and they were also robotic.

The receptionist called my name and led me down a hall to a small room with what looked like a standard issue sensory deprivation tank. I showered and got in. for a moment everything was silent and dark.

Suddenly, there were stars everywhere and I began to have the sensation of floating forward though space. A tall handsome man was hovering over me. I felt myself being pulled upwards towards him and following him at an astounding rate of speed as the stars spun around us.

Waltz music began to play and we were dancing together in an opulent ballroom surrounded by beautiful revelers. I was no longer naked, but wearing a ball gown. He took me by the hand and pulled me out of the room and we ran down the street to a parked sports car. We got into the car and drove fast as beautiful scenery dashed passed us. The car stopped and he started floating through the stars again.

Suddenly, the sky turned pink and colorful cakes and candies began to float by. They looked close enough to eat and I tried, but they pulled away. The images turned to 3-D images of bottles of high end alcohol. The bottles spun very slowly. The stars returned and spun at an astounding rate until I felt dizzy. The darkness returned and again I floated there for a moment. I felt anxious I wanted the images back. Soft music played and the lights came up.

I climbed out of the tank, showered and headed towards the decompression room. Several people sat drinking tea and thumbing through magazines, but other me wasn’t one of them. I noticed a small local paper on the coffee table. I sat down and looked at the story.

Three Buildings in North Hollywood to be demolished today, the headline read. “122, 126 and 128 Van Nuys Blvd will be demolished with dynamite at 6:00 p.m. today. The city of north Hollywood elected to demolish the eyesores which have been abandon and uninhabitable for the last five years,” the article read.

I bolted up. My building was going to be demolished in two hour and so was the time machine. Other me must have seen it and run.

I went outside and looked for a taxi, but I didn’t see one. I jumped on the bus and headed back to NOHO. I wondered how I was ever going to make it up the stairs past a demolition crew; either one of me.

When I got there, there were cops and people everywhere. There were a couple of street vendors selling hot dogs and popcorn and souvenir construction hats. Two cops stood talking to a construction worker who appeared to be giving a statement. He looked up at me and pointed. They all walked over to me.

“That’s definitely her.” I heard one of them say. I turned to run, but they grabbed me. They took me to their car.

“What were you trying to do in there, ma’am?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Ma’am two people saw you run into the building and up the stairs.”

“When?”

“An hour ago,” the cop said.

“I was on the bus an hour ago and I can prove it,” I said. I showed him my bus transfer. He wrote out a report and let me go.

After another hour the cops determined the building was secured. I watched helplessly as the buildings crumbled to the ground and everyone cheered.

I realized I was stuck in the future.

Time (part 9)

 

 

clock

 

The machine rumbled and stopped; I stepped out cautiously. There was nothing in the closet except two rats who stared up at me after I came out of the machine. I bolted out of the closet and into the bedroom which contained many more rats. I ran to the front door, but there wasn’t one: they building had been abandon. I walked down the stairs avoiding several more rats along the way. I almost tripped over a homeless man on my way out.

The street outside was just coming to life in the early morning hours and a boy skated past me on a hover skate-board. A little old lady walked by me with a small yapping dog in a pink designer bag. I did a double take and realized that the dog was actually a robot. The woman looked familiar as well, she was tall and thin with white hair and a pointy noise.

I walked towards the train station to find it still open and operational. I went to buy a ticket, but discovered that the machine was not accepting cash. I went into a drug store and went to the prepaid credit card rack. The selection was very sparse and there were signs everywhere saying “Micro-chipping deadline January 31 2041.

I loaded the card with $100 and walked back out into the street. The neighborhood had definitely gone way downhill. I wondered if North Hollywood wasn’t the new Downtown, based on the homeless people wandering around the train station. There were many abandon apartments and several homeless shelters lining the street.

I purchased a ticket which I was shocked to see was $10.00. I asked several people on the train platform if they’d ever heard of an antiques store called Luther’s most of them looked at me oddly and shrugged their shoulders. One man told me he could find out he rolled up his sleeve and revealed a small screen on his arm. He gave me an address in Silver Lake.

I got on the train to find almost everyone staring at their arms. I looked around at how the girls were dressed. Business clothes hadn’t changed that much and skanks had taken to wearing halter-tops with skorts and high heels. I couldn’t help but notice that the majority of people looked a lot fatter than they did back in 2014; I’d never felt so thin. The train itself was likely the same one I’d ridden on thirty five years earlier (a few hour ago). It had not aged well, the seats were torn and there was scrub off graffiti on the walls.

I got off at The Sunset and Vermont station and headed up the escalator. Several hover mopeds raced by on the street. A couple of young white men walked by wearing backwards baseball caps and pants down around their ankles. I walked by a pizza shop called Old School Slice, boasting bacon, gluten and sugary sauce on the windows. I found Luther’s in a tiny shop on Sunset. I walked in to find a pretty young woman standing behind the counter wearing a backwards baseball cap, a Taylor Swift tee-shirt and a bored expression.

I looked around the store for a moment. There were several old movie posters including Showgirls, The First Wives Club and The Interview. I looked to see if there were any posters for any of the early 21st century Oscar winners, but I couldn’t find any.

Two soft faced young men wearing backwards baseball caps walked by me. I noticed one of them had a teardrop tattooed on his face.

“What you have to understand is that most of Penshee’s concepts were based on Buscaglia’s early writings, which were fundamentally exercised in pop culture existentialism,” one was saying to the other.

A man of about eighty or so entered the store carrying a large box. He set it on the counter and began to remove Items the girl did not help him.

“Do you know how many copies of we have of A Night in Paris? The girl said tossing it aside.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a Salad Spinner, “The man said trying to sound cheerful.

“You spin meat in here?”

“No People used to make salad out of vegetables instead of meat and candy. It used to be hard to get them all combined.”

“Well I doubt people are gonna wanna put there algae tablets in it.”

“Believe it or not some people still eat vegetables,” the man said somewhat impatiently.

“”A hundred,” she said.

“Okay,”

“Fifty Shades of Grey? Everyone who went to high school listened to this book,” she scoffed.

“That’s signed by the author. I know you can use it you have a very educated clientele around here. Radsters love classic literature. I’m not so old that I don’t know that.”

“I’ll go get Barry,” she said rolling her eyes.

A moment later she returned with a man of about fifty who came out and took a look at the book. There was more negotiating and the old man walked out with $200.

“Hey there Kelly are you still here? See something we can help you with,” Barry said to me.

“Ah no, Well I mean yes I’m not Kelly. I’m her sister Tracy. I’m visiting from Denver. I thought she said she was coming here and I guess I must have missed her.”

“I thought your hair looked different,” He said.

“You don’t happen to know where she might have gone do you, “I asked trying not to sound too anxious.

“I really don’t know. She never says much when she comes in here just sell her stuff and goes. We’re always glad to see her! I don’t know how she does it, but everything is always so well preserved it looks like she bought it yesterday.”

“Oh, she comes in often then I take it? “
“About every two months or so, but she never mentioned having a twin.”

“You don’t have any idea where she might have gone do you?”

“Sorry, I don’t” Barry said.

“Why don’t you just use your GPS. The girl said pointing to her arm.”

“Oh, yeah right duh, I’ll try that,” I said heading into the street.

I walked down the block looking to see if anyone would lend me an arm.

Time (part 8)

clock

 

I took the card from Tom. On the front of the card was a picture of a hundred or so lifesavers. When I opened it it said “Happy Birthday to my love and my lifesaver. Love, Tom.”

“Maybe you saved my life, “he said as if he were trying to explain the relationship to himself.

“Maybe,” I said. Oh, wow I really did do a reading for Tamera Kelly.”

“Really,” Tom said leaning in over my shoulder to get a look at the blog.

Well, I call her Kamera Felly on my blog, but I noticed we had become Facebook friends and what I wrote here describes her physically.”

I sped-read through a few more blog post. It was full of my usual sarcastic observations about my clients. There were only about twenty posts since 2010, it had only been an outlet for my most frustrating emotions.

While I read my old blog Tom found my day planner in my desk. It occurred to me that I should feel invaded or offended or something, but the truth is I didn’t. It was like he was looking at a stranger’s planner. I didn’t know any more about what was in it than he did.

“Do you have your own shorthand or something,” Tom asked.

“What do you mean?”

He handed me the planner and I looked at the day’s agenda.

“T’s feed turt get wi and crack,” it said.

“Well I would guess that I need water and crackers for something.”

“Did you check your Facebook page?”

I went to Facebook and looked, but I did not see any events coming up. I checked for friends events, but there were none that day.

“Let’s check your Facebook,” I said may be they’ll be a clue or two there.

He reluctantly logged on and we looked at his page. His profile picture was of him holding a turtle. There was a picture of the two of us stand in front of the Staples Center in his albums. Other than that there were no pictures of me.

We scrolled down and found that he was going to North Carolina for a few days for work. Most of his post were links to music he liked and a few random articles. He scrolled back several months, but there weren’t really any clues to where I might be. He slowed his pace when he came to a post that said January 11, 2012 became friends with Kelly Peirce.

“Go to Tom’s to feed Turtle, pick up wine and crackers.” I said finally able to understand my note.

“Do me a favor,” I continued, “look to see if we have any mutual friends. There were several one was my neighbor Gina, another was a guy named Frank Peppers who neither of us knew and then there was Katrina Fuller.

“Do you actually know Katrina Fuller,” I asked.

“It sounds vaguely familiar.”

I clicked on Tom’s private messages.

“Hey, what are you doing? He said.

“I wanna see one thing.”

I scrolled though his messages until I got to one from Katrina.

“Why settle for ramen when you could have steak…just sayin….”.

I thought I saw a small smile play on Tom’s lips. I felt jealous, Katrina was pretty.

There was only one other brief exchange in which they discussed a movie they’d both liked.

“Where do you know her from,” I asked.

“Look, Kelly I don’t know what happens in the future, or I mean what happened in the past or I mean, I mean, it’s not like I can answer for my actions in this case and it’s not like we are really together.”

“No, it’s not that. That woman had been emailing me repeatedly asking me to work at a party, I never mailed her back and I don’t know why.

“I seem to remember her having something to do with work, like I trained her on some software, or something. Look, I hate to say it, but it sounds like you might be at my house feeding my turtle, maybe we should look for you there,” Tom suggested.

I grabbed a hundred dollars out of my old cookie jar stash and we took a cab back to Tom’s place. We were relived to find his key worked. We entered and found the turtle tank in the kitchen. He had two small bowls that were already full of food and water.

“Goddamit,” Tom said. “You’ve already been here.

“Wait there’s a note,” I said.

“Hon, I went to 2040 to sell some antiques at Luther’s. Be back tomorrow.”

“Is that your handwriting,” Tom asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“Maybe you’re lost in the future.”

“In 2040?”

“Maybe,: he said.

“It makes sense, I mean I didn’t have a lot of close friends except for apparently, you it only stands to reason that you wouldn’t report me missing considering the time machine and everything.”

“Right.”

“Tom, I’m gonna go to 2040 and look for myself. I ‘m gonna go to the ATM first. I think about $500 should do for a couple of days. Do you want to come with?”

“No, I’m good.” Tom said.

“Are you going back to 2014,” I asked suspicious that he might try to go back a few months and “fix” things.

“Yes, but you go first.”

After a sojourn to the ATM and a trip to the 7- 11 for sundries I packed a small bag with the few clothes I had at Tom’s and got in the machine.

“It’s already set to June 10th, 2040,” I told Tom as I entered the machine.

“Have fun.: He shut the door and I pushed the button.

Time (part 6)

clock

 

 

The first thing I saw when I came to was Tom concerned face bent over me, he handed me a glass of water and sat me up.

“Where am I, “I asked.”

“You’re in the other room watching TV.”

“Oh, did I say anything about what year I was from?

“She…I mean you said she came from 2012, Then 2015 and now she’s here. Do you want to go in and talk to her?”

We walked into the spare room where I was quietly sitting on the bed and drinking a glass of water.

“Hi I said to myself.”

My other self got up and started to come towards me with her hand extended.

I cautiously took it, wondering if something bad could happen if we touched.

“I don’t even know what I should ask first,” I began. “How did you first discover the time machine?”

“I went to bed one night, in my….our apartment on June fourteenth of 2012.”

“The one in Beverly Hills,” I asked wondering just how much my little trip had screwed everything up.

“Yes. I went to bed and when I woke up I was here in this apartment and the year was 2015.”

“Did you freak out, I mean I think I would have.” Tom said.

“At first I just thought I was having a strange dream. Then I realized I had to go to the bathroom and that struck me as odd because I’ve never had to do that in a dream before. Then I crept back to bed and took a good look at you expecting to find someone I had a crush on. But, well even though I thought you were cute and everything. I realized I had never seen you before. I thought that was weird because it was unlike me to dream about being with a stranger.”

“”You mean we were…I mean you were…I mean um.” I said pointing at Tom, than to me than to her.

“Oh. My God are you guys ..I mean, you’re not together yet?”
“We’re roommates, sort of. I mean we were roommates, Tom let me use the time machine I went back five years and screwed everything up.

“So anyway, go one with your story,” Tom said clearly wanting to ignore what he just heard.

“So I nudged you and you woke up. You kissed me and you asked me if I was going to work. I slowly began to realize I wasn’t dreaming. I asked you who you were and you told me you were Tom, my boyfriend…”

Tom and I gave each other and embarrassed sidelong glance.

“You didn’t seem the least bit shocked that I didn’t know you and seemed disoriented. You told me about the time machine and I didn’t believe you. You showed me where it was I got in it and before you could stop me I got in it and set the dials. The next thing I knew I was here.”

Tom and I both just stared at my other self for a moment, uncertain of what to do.

“You said you came from 2012,” I said.

“Yes, that’s right. That’s where I started anyway.

“How was the business doing?”

“Okay, a little slow, but not bad.”

I fought a smile.

“Did you, I mean did I have a boyfriend?”

“Np, not a recent one.”

“Do you remember a boyfriend named Steve? He was a mechanic.”

“No, I never dated a Steve.”

My smile broadened and then I remembered that I still didn’t know how I had ceased to exist.

Time (part 4)

 

clock

 

I got up at six and took another shower with the lilac soap. I started to cry not wanting to leave and go back to the tiny room in the shared apartment. I considered staying, but I remembered what Tom had said.

I ran to the train station and jumped on the red line. I made a run for the new apartment. I raced up the stairs and knocked on the door and hid in the stairwell, but no one came to the door.

I tried my key, but it wouldn’t work. I went back to the stairwell and sat there until I heard someone coming. I hid around a corner and saw the woman I’d seen coming out of the shower  yesterday. She was coming upstairs with a small dog. She went into the apartment for a second and came out carrying a bag of garbage and made her way down the stairs again. I ran for the door and was thrilled to find it was unlocked.

I ran into the closet as the dog barked. I pushed aside the large box blocking the door to the room. I pulled on the nob but it was locked, I panicked as I heard the door to the apartment open and footsteps coming to the door. I tried my apartment key in the door and it worked. I closed the door and locked it. I set the dials and pushed the start button. The room shook for a moment and then stopped.

I opened the door and stepped out into Tom’s closet.

“Tom ,” I said. I opened the closet door to find him stark naked and dancing around his bedroom.

He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks.

“I…”I began.

“What the fuck,”  He screamed.

“Tom, I’m sorry what time is it?”

“How did you know my name,” he asked throwing on a pair of jeans.

“Oh my got what day it. Or should I say what year is it?”

“You came in the machine,” he said trepidatiously.

“Yes,” I said relieved that he understood something. “what day is it?”

“It’s October 21, 2014.”

“And you don’t know me?”

“Should I?”

“I’m your roommate, I moved in a couple of days ago.”

“My new roommate is a guy and he isn’t supposed to move in until next week.”

For a moment we just stared at each other. I felt a bit happy, maybe what I had done made everything okay after all, maybe I could just go home to Beverly Hills.

“Can I use your computer?” I asked.

We went into the living room and turned on Tom’s laptop.

We went to Google and before I typed anything in I told him some of my story; that I had been a semi successful psychic to the somewhat well-known going by the name of Bethany Gayle which was a combination of my middle name and my mother’s maiden name. I told him that I had bought a used car and that it was a lemon that was a lemon that was always breaking down. I told him I’d taken the car in to have the transmission worked on. I told him that was where I met Steve, the man who was to eventually ruin my life.

We went to my old company web page and found that it was still there. I breathed a sigh of relief. something must have changed, because before my trip back in time for non-payment. I went to the old company Facebook page and found it still intact. The Twitter page was still there as well.

“Hey, look at something,” Tom said. “Your last Twitter post was October, 4, 2013.”

He went back to Facebook.

“And your last Facebook post was October 5th.”

“Can I look in something in private for one sec…just for one sec?”

“I guess so he said. He went into the kitchen to get something to drink. I attempted to go to my old secret blog, but it had been taken down.

I went to my old e mail and found that the last one I’d sent was on October, 7 2013.

Tom came back into the living room and I told him about the email.

We decided the best thing to do would be to go through each email looking for clues. There were a hundred and fifty of them and it only went back a month.

Most of them were just work orders, people asking for party bookings. From what I would tell I was still doing about three parties a week. We noticed there were about three E mails from a Katrina Faller that I had never responded to they were all just party requests.

“It would have been very unlike me not to respond.” I said.

He laughed and started a Google search under my stage name.

Time (part 3)

clock

 

 

I arrived at the posh apartment building at 8:30 PM. I was greeted by Mr. Peterman who led upstairs to the penthouse. I began setting up my table. My hands shook a little as I pulled out my old purple velvet table cloth. My eyes welled up a bit, I didn’t realized how much I’d missed this. It seemed so silly, I mean it was all a bunch of lies anyway, but as I set out my candles and my tip jar I realized what I missed the most was the respect I got when I did a reading.

I’d never gotten much respect back in the Midwest, they’d taken one look at my pale skin and noticed the tremors in my hands and thought that I was someone to kick. It was the same way in Los Angeles at first, in fact it was worse for the first year, and then I’d started doing readings. After I started getting well know, a rumor had started that my skin was so pale because of the light inside me and my hands shook when the spirits were speaking to me.

Although I always sniggered at the delusional minds of Angelinos, I secretly understood. I had always found reality to be horribly depressing. I wished that I could believe in magic, but I just couldn’t. The people who came up to my table always went away happy, knowing that something good was coming their way, that whatever happened, happened for a reason and that the universe was fundamentally a just place.

I knew what a bunch of hogwash I was selling. I knew that everything happened for a reason and that reason was that people were greedy shits. I knew how dangerous it was to think that everything that happened, just couldn’t be helped. I knew how lazy and complacent that way of thinking could make people. At the same time I wanted the money and I liked the power. Every time I thought of quitting I remembered what it was like to be poor. Every time I felt guilty about lying, I remembered how people treated me when I was honest.

I sat down at the table and the party began. As people came up to me I started to remember details of this particular evening.

There was the guest of honor, a short man who reminded me a little of Dustin Hoffman. He wanted to know if he should start his own business. I had Googled him and I knew that he was a manger of music for a big company. I had remembered that five years ago I told him he should wait another five years before starting his own company and if he did wonderful things would happen. I wanted to give him something to look forward to. This time I told him that he should start the company in one year.

A lady with auburn hair came up to the table and sat down. I greeted her as if we were old friends. I remembered that she had started off by asking if she should buy a beach house and then confessed that she thought her husband was having an affair. I told her that no matter what the universe would provide for her. I also told her to get the beach house and put it in her name.  A year later she’d found a receipt for the Beverly Hilton in her husband’s wallet for December 2nd when he said he had to work late. She confronted him and he left her and she was living in that beach house. This time I was more specific.

Before she could even ask about the beach house I said, “I see a woman with blond hair and green eyes, she and your husband are at a play. I’m getting 12’s and twos after that.”

She turned white when I said it. She grabbed a drink off a passing tray and began to cry. I told her that amazing things were going to happen to her as a result of this tragedy.

The next man I talked to was a producer of reality television shows. I told him that I was picking up on a vibe that his next big star was a soon to be divorced trophy wife who was somewhere in the room with us.

I headed home in the cab with $600 in my purse. The next day I sat in my old apartment all day. As far as I knew all I had to do was simply not buy the car.

While I waited I watched TV and surfed the net remember all the various celebrity scandals that had happened five years ago. I checked e mail and was glad to see that I didn’t have anything that need attention that day. I hesitantly went to my old blog. There it was, Confessions of a Fake Psychic. The only picture was that of a pink hat that I found at the bus stop the first night I did readings. I kept my identity and the identity of my clients well hidden, it was the only place I could really say what I thought and it was my way of reminding myself who I really was. I read a couple of the entries. I hadn’t even written THAT entry yet. I looked at the blog hits, it was pretty ironic how I hadn’t even gotten twenty hits a day. I thought about erasing everything, but I thought better of it. If I didn’t buy the car it wouldn’t break down. If the car didn’t break down there would have no reason to go to a mechanic, if I hadn’t gone to the mechanics, I wouldn’t have met Steve.

I lay in bed that night waiting for the 6:00 AM alarm to go off. I wondered how I checked to make sure I had the key to my future apartment at least 30 times. I hoped the key would work, I tried to make a plan if it didn’t.

Time (Part 2)

clock

 

 

I ran down Van Nuys Blvd to the train station in the sweltering heat. I noticed my purse was still the small red one I’d been carrying when I left and the same $75.00 was still in it. I checked the bills and found that one of the twenties was from 2014. I tried it in the fare machine and miraculously it worked a day ticket and fifteen dollar coins spat out at me.

When I got off the train I bought a copy of the newspaper the date was October 20, 2009

I rode the train to my old building in Beverly Hills and ran up the stairs to my old apartment. As I was on my way up the stairs I realized I no longer had the key. I went to the management office and explained that I had lost my key, I was given a duplicate after signing a form saying I would pay $25 along with next month’s rent.

I walked up the stairs and opened the door to my former life. I had rented the apartment the year before. I couldn’t believe my good luck in finding an apartment for only $1000 a month in Beverly Hills I couldn’t believe the money I was making as a psychic.

It had started two years before that at a party. I was going through a rough time financially and I had been looking on Craigslist for ECT jobs when I came across an ad for a man who needed a psychic for a party. I called and told him I was a psychic and I would work his party for $100 plus tips.

I arrived at the fancy night club where the party was being held and stumbled through the first couple of readings. My third reading sat down at the table he was a tall thin man with a large nose feathered hair and a fake tan.  He said he was trying to make a big business decision.

I told him that he had been an artist in a past life and a business man in another and that those two things were constantly in conflict. I asked him if his conflict had something to do with art and commerce.

“Yes, yes that’s it exactly,” he said.

“You should listen to your artistic side,” I had told him.

He said he would take my advice.

I worked at about a party a month for a year after that in addition to my phone survey job and selling my plasma. One night the same man came up to me and said that he had taken a chance and produced a pilot of a television show that had been picked up by a network. He wanted to thank me and he wanted to recommend me to all of his friends.

After that I was working three nights a week and making about $500 at each party. I took to Googling hosts and their Facebook friends so I would seem to know more about them; no one ever called me on it. I started to get a good reputation. I finally splurged and got the apartment.

Just after I signed the lease my old Honda died on me and I had to get a new used car to get to jobs and to keep up appearances. It was on October 21 of 2009 that I had bought a car that would prove to be an enormous pain in the ass and even something that would be responsible in part for my eventual downfall.

I sat at my old desk and turned on my old laptop. I checked my calendar and found that I had a party booked in Santa Monica that evening. My heart raced. All it said was the name Sampson and an address. I didn’t remember the party at all. I went to my email, but then I remembered I changed accounts and I didn’t remember my old password. I was asked a bunch of security questions and I finally got back in I searched for an email, but I couldn’t find anything. I went to Facebook and found that I was mercifully logged in. I scrolled though my messages, but there was nothing. I typed the name Sampson into my friends, and nothing came up. I looked for recently added friends and found four. I went to each of their pages and finally saw that a Chad Peterman had posted a party invitation featuring me as the entertainment.  I breathed a sigh of relief and began to stalk the people who were invited to the part.

I took a shower with my old lilac scented soap, donned my gypsy outfit and headed to the door. I attempted to call a cab, but my phone wouldn’t work. I located my old phone sitting on my old coffee table. I sat in the back of the cab rehearsing my old line of bullshit in my head.