Bad Vibes -- My Intuitive Success

There's two titles that go great together, "Suspicious Minds" and "You'll Think of Me." Because when it comes to suspicious minds, I'm a good one to think of.

I have this terrible thing that happens to me, which in this case I present as an intuitive success, since I knew it would happen. The terrible thing is I have bad vibes leaping off me, occasionally, so obviously that the average person can see them, or at least discern them. And I must look incredibly suspicious.

Whenever it happens, I'm a little withdrawn for some reason. Like from the weather, or, worse for me, when my natural insecurities are at the fore. There are reasons for this, because sometimes I don't allow time for decompression following intense meditation. Or maybe my basketball team loses. Or the car's having trouble starting, etc. So I'm walking around, looking withdrawn, feeling inside like everything's cinched up.

I go to a store and I guess I look like trouble. Even though I'm a perfectly respectable person who would never do anything wrong. So it happened exactly like that tonight. I'm getting some deli food at the grocery store, then walking around the store with it. I'm looking for nothing in particular, just for something else to go with the meal but nothing looks good, so I look at odds with my surroundings. Invariably, and tonight it happened again, someone comes up to me out of the blue and says, "Are you finding everything OK?" Which I mentally predicted would happen; that's the intuitive success.

Then I'm walking to the cash register and the checkout lady looks like she's going to have to take me down, because I must really look like trouble approaching. The bad vibes, very angular, are ricocheting off the walls; I always wonder what it looks like to the average person; I really wonder what it'd look like to a psychic or someone who can see auras. Probably like a porcupine. Or an unpleasant entity floating over a cemetery. It's not a comfortable feeling, but still very interesting.

At the cash register, then, the cashier was unexpectedly (from her point of view) comforted when I flashed my "preferred customer" card, then it was obvious I was just a normal guy with an eccentric, undefinable approach.

The Pink Professor, my traveling/dining companion in this life, and I had a good conversation in the car afterward. With my intuitive success being something for me to brag about.