South Jersey Psychic
written by: Tom Minder
Armand opened his apartment door just as the postman was placing mail into his slot. The envelopes fell to the ground. “I knew you were coming. It’s a sense.”
The postman muttered something about ‘every day’ and walked off.
Armand scooped up his mail and found a manila envelope. He took a deep breath and ripped away at the flap. He pulled an 8 ½ by 11-inch piece of parchment:
This is to certify that Armand Armando has successfully completed the requirements to qualify as a South Jersey Psychic Professional.
Armand held the paper up to the light. It even has a watermark, he thought. I’m official. No more unclogging toilets for me. I have a new profession now, after all those hours of study. Best $39.95 I ever spent.
He opened his drawer and pulled out old business cards. He made some hasty corrections and placed a few into his wallet. Now to go out, have some breakfast, and buy a frame for this diploma.
He found his umbrella and walked outside. It had stopped raining, but the ground was still wet. He saw a woman walking near the curb with a bus approaching. “Ma’am, you should move in a bit so the bus doesn’t splash you.”
She moved just in time to avoid the puddle brought up by the bus. “Thank you, kind sir. I’m glad you noticed.”
Armand blushed. “It’s a gift, ma’am. Just doing my job.”
He passed a meter maid writing a ticket for an expired meter. The next meter was also out of time. A man ran out of a barber shop, still wearing an apron and shaving cream covering his face. Armand calmly walked over, pulled a quarter, and bought more time before the attendant could open her ticket book.
“Thanks, buddy,” the man called out.
Armand waved. “No problem, sir. I saw it coming. It’s what I do.”
He walked into his favorite café, found his favorite table, and sat. A waitress handed him the menu and started to greet him.
“You’re going to ask me what I want to eat. Don’t be afraid, I’m a psychic.” He looked at the menu. “I’ll have the ham and eggs.”
“Like every day,” the waitress muttered as she walked off.
Armand finished his meal and stood to pay the check. Just then, a car sped around the corner, lost control on the wet asphalt, and crashed through the front glass of the restaurant. Patrons scattered as the car crashed into Armand’s table and the table on his right, where a woman sat stunned, her Agatha Christie thrown by the accident.
He awoke on a stretcher as an EMT shone a light into his eyes. “Boy, I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t see that coming.”
Armand noticed the woman on an adjacent stretcher. He pulled a card and handed it to her. Armand Armando, South Jersey Psychic. South Jersey Psychic was written over Apprentice Plumber.
“Your book looks like it was destroyed,” he said. “Don’t worry. I know who did it.”
The woman scowled. “Tell me and I’ll pull your IV.”
Armand passed out before sustaining further injuries.
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