Waiter, There's Some B!#@&?*t in My Drink!

I'm told I have a really long life line, but isn't that the safest thing to tell someone when you read their palm? Even people who don't seem to have much to live for have a hell of a survival instinct, so it's always going to be welcome news. And if you're wrong, who is coming to complain?

When I asked this of the palm reader, I got a dirty look. Not the good kind, either.

Before she read several palms, John's new girlfriend asked me if I was a Virgo. Nope, I'm a Leo, I said. Born on September 12.

But that makes you a Virgo, she insisted.




If she were right, I'd agree with her. Leo was in the sun on September 12, 1969, it's not my fault astrologers haven't updated their sun signs in 5,000 years. Of course, according to her, this argument only proves what a total Virgo I am.

In fairness, she got a lot right. More than I gave her credit for, because really, is she reading my palm or my personality? My profligate romantic life as a teen, the 'early health event' that caused me to change my lifestyle... Well, I'm pretty sure all teenage boys are basically an erect penis with the idea of a human being attached to it. And my heart attack at 32 did get me working out like a fiend for about six months. Then I sat around, drank too much, and ate a lot of fried food for six years before I actually did doodly squat about my lifestyle.




While she was reading our palms and predicting our romantic destinies, John pointed out that she was dragging her cuff in my margarita. I said something like, Careful, you'll get psychic bullshit in my cocktail. At which point she threatened to go on strike, it's not like anyone was paying for her insights.

It was fun. I want to introduce her to Robert the Psychic sometime. They can compare notes about what a skeptical jerk I am.




I rode from work to the Trek Store, something that I thought of doing last year but couldn't quite get my mind around. Bicycles as transportation seem so impractical to American eyes. Yet somehow it made sense in my former world to put my bike on my car and drive to a place I had no other reason to be, ride in a circle back to the car and then drive home. Even if that meant riding a similar distance to what it would have taken to just ride from the office to my house.



But bike advocates seem whack even to people who love to ride (me anyway). It's no good telling people they'll save the planet or give BP something to cry about, they'll only join in if they find out how much fun we're having.