Monday, August 15, 2005

Jesus in a Glass Box

The sign out on the sidewalk said $10 for a tarot reading. I think it was like a thousand degrees in Inman Square, the heat trapped in by the concrete and asphalt, shimmering in waves. I wanted to be inside after having walked a mile already (or maybe it was just 10 steps. Whatever!), so I was like what the heck. 10 bucks for some psychic reading and some cool air, maybe even some AC . A bargain, right?

One little arrow pointed in the general direction of left. We opened a little gate, and walked down a narrow path, hemmed in by a mesh fence.

The porch of this little house we came to reminded me of Freakshow's house in Harold and Kumar go to White Castle. Let me explain.

The little porch, to the right of the front door was a shrine. Unlit (well, it was day time) fairy lights in green, red and blue festooned the place. Plastic flowers, massed in equally plastic vases, hanging from the little tin roof, all around. A menagerie of animals...resin? wood? plaster?...strategically placed among all this artifical abundance. I saw a few bunnies, a couple of lambs and something that could have been an anteater or a squirrel. And in an upright glass box which reminded me of Snow White's coffin, stood Jesus, smilling beatifically and peering out from behind a giant mass of what seemed to be dusty chrystanthemums. There was even a little key and lock on Jesus's abode. To keep him in?

Mesmerized, my eyes travled past Jesus to a little window out of which peered a lady with an impressive moustache and a very flowery mumu type housedress. We asked (hoping that she was not; wondering why we had not turned back earlier) if she was the psychic.

"No, no psychic here," shouted the hairiest man, with the roundest stomach, I've ever seen. When had he materialized at the now open front door? Obviously he had been in a hurry or he would have put on his shirt. Unless he considered his body hair to be enough of a covering. Like mother like son. Phew!

We ran, with relief, towards the gate, knowing that they were watching us go. So was Jesus.

Yes, we did find the psychic. More on that tomorrow.

Happy Belated 58th Birthday India!!!

1 comment:

Nowhere Nick said...

Sounds like quite the adventure. You probably scared those folks to death when you asked if the moustached woman was the psychic. Might have made Jesus turn over in his little plastic coffin. Hope you had a good reading.