Buenos dias, homepeople. I'm glad you have the huevos to read this post on Jueves. And with that, I'm officially ending my Spanish days-of-the-week puns. It was a good run, but I don't think anyone will miss that feature. For today, we shall delve deep into the tumultuous invaginations of my mind. Yes, that's a real word. Today, we go beyond the realm of what some consider to be normal mental capabilities and into the murkier waters of psychic powers. Bwa ha ha.
Around ten years ago, I was driving somewhere with my friend Sara. I had my Bronco II back then, and there was a little shelf in front of the passenger seat. I kept a few things there: a keychain, a little ball, a wrapper from something I should've already thrown away, and a deck of cards. The cards were there because I never knew when I'd want to bust those out to pass some time. As a hyperpunctual individual, I've done a fair amount of waiting around, so diversions are always appreciated.
I don't remember where we were going, but Sara and I had been in the car for a little while already when she reached for the cards. She played with them in her hands for a little, and then held the back of one up to me. "Guess what it is," she said. Right then, in a way I can't really explain, the five of clubs popped into my head. "Five of clubs," I said a little hesitantly, because I was confused as to how that got in my head. Her mouth dropped open as she slowly turned the card to reveal that I was right. "How did you do that?" she asked. "I, I don't know. It just kinda came to me," I said. "What's this one?" she said frantically, thrusting another card out toward me. "I don't know...nothing's, ya know, coming to me." She demanded that I guess, so I arbitrarily through out the Jack of hearts, which was way off. We both agreed that "that was weird" and didn't make too much of it. I think I know what happened though. Sara doesn't have the sense of smell - never has - and so I think my body compensated by giving me six senses for that ride. I'm a giver like that.
That is hands down the most psychic experience I've ever had. There are two more slightly lesser stories, and I'll share them now. One morning during a break from college, a group of friends met me at my parents' house to all drive to Las Vegas together. My dad hadn't seen some of the guys for a little while, so he came out and was shooting the shit with us. I don't remember how it came up, but he told us that he had just seen Ryan Stiles (of "Whose Line is it Anyway?" fame) on the freeway next to him. "What kind of car was he in?" one of my friends asked. I don't know why, but I said, "A Range Rover?" My dad turned to me with an odd expression and said, "Yeah, it was a Range Rover. How did you know that?" "I didn't know that; it was just a guess. Unless he's done a commercial or something for them." No one could remember seeing anything of the sort, so I shrugged and we moved on to another conversation. Did my "powers" help me in gambling that weekend? Uh, not exactly.
Lastly, and least impressive, I was in my parents' kitchen when my dad came home from playing golf. He started to tell my mom that he ran into someone, but then he couldn't remember the person's name. Right then, the name Gene Sarazen popped into my head in the same exact way the five of clubs had. I recognized this, so I felt compelled to say the name aloud. "No," my mom said laughing, "he was a professional golfer from decades ago." I must've known that from somewhere, so that's not the interesting part. But then my dad said, "The guy I ran into was...Gene...huh, I can't remember his last name now. Gene something." I admit that my dad may have been led by the power of suggestion there, but if the guy's name was really Gene and that popped into my head, that's some wacky wild shtuff.
What does this all mean? Do I have latent psychic powers waiting for me to figure out how to use them? Have I been watching too much Heroes? Is this the real reason you can't spell "the predictor" without Peter? I personally chalk it up to odd coincidence, because I'm currently averaging one "experience" per every decade. They also all happened within the span of about a year or two, so maybe I was just better at reading non-verbal cues back then. What if I subconsciously saw the five of clubs' reflection in a mirror, Ryan Stiles had been in a Range Rover commercial, and that guy's name wasn't Gene? Then this is all nonsense. In the meantime though, I'm going to keep trying to develop my powers just in case. You never know when the world might call upon you to save it's ass.
Have you had similar experiences? Share away, friends, by commenting or emailing ptklein@gmail.com. Have a great day, and I'll see you here tomorrow for another Follow Up Friday.
3 comments:
Here it is Wednesday night, and your Thursday entry is already posted. Have the planets failed to align, or is this yet another manifestation of hyperpunctual Peter? And why the hell was I even checking your site on Wednesday night? What is wrong with us?
How many fingers am I holding up?
I'm trying my first comment via Blabkberry. Not bad. And Dad, for some reason the number 12 keeps popping into my head, so I'm gonna guess that many fingers.
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