“I wish I had a cigarette. That’s how I feel,” I tell her with a mischievous grin. There was something about her aura and demeanor that stirred and excited the part of my personality I’ve long repressed. Wild, defiant, foxy, and sensual—a true free spirit that immediately put me at ease. I also love the warm and reassuring feeling that I am not alone.
Then totally out of the blue, she asks me if I’d be interested in going to see fortune tellers. She needs to make an important life decision, and her friends told her about three fortune tellers that are rumored to be really good. She is skeptical about their ability to predict future, which is why she wants to see three, not one, and would believe them only if they all tell her the same thing.
“Yea, sure. But don’t you need to work during the day?” I ask, looking concerned.
“I work at night, from 10 p.m. till 6 a.m.” I’m about to ask her if she can help me get a job when a nurse in a white gown calls my name.
“You have urticaria.” A young doctor looks at me condescendingly as he clumsily injects white liguid into my arm. “It’s caused by histamine release, which can be triggered by sunlight exposure, insect stings, or allergic reaction to food or medication you are taking. Swelling should go away within a day, but come back immediately if you have trouble breathing.”
When it’s time to check out, I realize that I forgot to bring my purse. Reading my body language and before I even have to say a word about it, she nonchalantly says, “Don’t worry about it,” takes out her Hello Kitty credit card, and pays the bill.
“You sure? Why are you so good to me?”
She shrugs her shoulders and hands me a piece of pastel colored bubble gum.
YOU ARE READING
Millennial's Monologue: Secret Dramas in Our Hearts & Souls
Non-FictionREAL LIFE STORY: I was a stereotypical high achiever in an Ivy League school who got suspended for plagiarism; April was a sweet girl who worked in a high-end prostitution ring. We were both in our early twenties when we became friends. A perfect...
