My family entered our 1959 Chevrolet Impala convertible in a car show earlier this month. Besides the car show going on at Cheadle Lake Park in Lebanon, there was also a flea market.
After we got the car registered and parked, and our lawn chairs set up, we wandered through the flea market. I had my camera strapped around my neck, as I so often do. And when an attractive, 30-something man asked me a question, I thought he'd said, "Can I see your camera?"
"What?" I asked back.
"Can I see your palm?"
"Oh. Uh, okay." I flipped my right hand over and he held it and began doing a reading.
It was unexpected, but interesting.
I have had my palm read exactly one other time. That was last November at the book launch party for my romantic suspense novel, "Mist." My friend, Susan posed as a fortuneteller (there is a fortuneteller in my book) and read palms. Susan is not actually a palm reader, although she did read up on the subject and she dressed the part.
So, while this male fortuneteller was running a finger along the lines on my palm and telling me the sort of person I am - very good communicator, kind, caring to the point of sometimes caring more for others than for self - I was comparing what he said to what Susan had "read." Her reading was more about the amazing success I would have in the future.
My husband and sons were hanging out as the male palm reader did his thing. "You are the leader of your household," he said.
That one didn't set so well with my husband.
I asked the palm reader about my life line. He said it was long, but I would have a big decision late in life and then I would come back. He tried to usher me into his booth for a more in-depth tarot card reading about the life line question, but tarot cards freak me out, so I passed.
The car show was a satisfying (we won a trophy and several raffle prizes) but a long day in the sun ( I sunburned my knees of all things). To help pass the time we wandered through the flea market a second time that afternoon. The tarot card booth was gone. Instead, my palm reader was manning a booth selling ceramic skulls and other knick knacks.
Very interesting, indeed.
Have any of you ever had your palm read? If so, what did the psychic say about you?