News the past weekend.
Saturday, beautiful day and the streets are empty. Nonetheless I head down Baker and set up with a crystal ball and 5 decks of Tarot cards. My outfit, my grey "Andy Warhol" wig and a pair of oversized rave sunglasses with disco balls hanging from the ear.
I should blend in just fine.
I'm immediately pounced upon by a trio of 20-something girls, one 'tips' $15, the other nothing.
They like the "Hermetic" deck, the one who's symbolism is least to my taste.
This is the most popular deck, by far.
Next customer, younger guy, coming off addictions and waiting to start tree-planting. Again, no cash, but I'm not a fan of "Charging" and - really, if you take it as a spiritual practice than any attempts to monetize it become merely simony, and so like it or not I gotta suck it up. Anyways, a beautiful day and I'm meeting people.
One final senior, a proper Grandpa Simpson, he tips $10, then I'm treated to the story of his life..."in 18diddly-odd-seven when I was just a young Man and Napolean was ...." sort of stuff, without end, which brought my hourly revenue down to about 35 cents.
I was saved from this (and would otherwise still be there...) by a text from my daughter, she'd made it to town.
So, find her still wearing my wig and loud glasses, a bag full of tarot cards & props, make the "impression" that has her questioning why she's visited, out with her, make some dinner, catch up.
Sunday with her the same, I try to induce her to go prospecting, but she's heard the tales and isn't leaving town.
This town, at the moment, a ghost town. Nobody around. Baker empty the whole live long day, and you have to wonder where everyone is...soon enough it'll be busy.
Sunday night, turn her on to "Once Upon a Time in the West", by the time Charles Bronson shows up she's hooked, and by the end she has to concede it's a masterpiece. Not even watching it this time (she's watching it on my phone), merely listening to the scant dialogue, the sound effects, the music, leitmotifs, and - it's still a fucking masterpiece.
Monday, the daughter's off, lunch with Cathy (from the Alumni of Unspeakable Trauma), help her to line up some bar supplies, glasses for the golf course, a catch-up glass of wine and then I'm done.
I'm good with a little bit of people, but a little bit can turn into too much pretty quick.
Today, volunteer, the other two ladies I usually work with don't show, and I'm not sure there isn't a bit of fallout from Michael's 'resignation'. And - despite a follow up, no word as to my 'job' and so it's back to the drawing board, this cash thing, and stressing about it, 6 months is more than plenty enough, and I've got to get my thinker on tight and come up with another plan...