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A tenner's fine, I think. What's less good is when someone accosts you on the pavement, does a five minute reading, sighs, packs up the cards, informs you that you've been psychically wounded in many deep and serious ways, and then goes on to explain that the only way to address all your numerous spiritual problems is an in-depth analysis that's going to cost you a thousand dollars.
That, when you're hungover in a strange city, can be a bit of a drag - Not that I coughed up for the old bat or anything, but I did spend the next couple of hours wandering round Manhattan wondering if she mightn't in fact have had a point ( it really had been a heavy evening, the one before. ) |
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