Let’s add this to the list of things that only happen to me.
I was out at a bar with friends. It was busy, so shared a table with 2 other lovely ladies, with whom we had exchanged sufficient pleasantries to understand they were school teachers, had been at the bar since 3.45, recommended the buffalo wings, and lived not far from the bar.
Then, while I was part way through telling my friends a hilarious, well paced, interesting (haha) story, one of these ladies interrupted me:
“Excuse me. I’m part gypsy. I feel like I need to read your palms.”
She proceeded to tell me a lot about myself. That I have 2 life lines (??), that I could have chosen either, but something happened when I was 42 that set me on this path. That I could have chosen career or external forces, but I chose the path that brought me back to me. I’m paraphrasing poorly. There were lots of other things, but my friends sat around nodding, saying Yes a lot.
Then my friends all asked if she wouldn’t mind reading their palms. There were tears, and laughs, but we all got told some stuff that rang true for us.
While this was going on, I chatted to the non-palm reading teacher. She asked what I did for a living and I answered that I’m a technical writer.
With this – she turns to her friend and said, “See, she’s a writer. That’s why we thought we knew her face.”
I jumped in with “I’m a technical writer, no-one knows me.”
They returned with “No, we were just saying that you write kids books.”
OK. Well, yes. But, I’m not published. You haven’t read my stuff or seen my face. Seriously.
They weren’t interested in published or not. Which was really kinda lovely.
But odd. Have you ever been mistaken for already being the thing that you aspire to?
