I walk up to a house, pizzas in tow. It’s a fairly nice neighborhood - I usually get nice tips from this area. I creep behind a long row of very high hedges that blocks this person’s front porch. I knock on the door, and see a pair of fingers peek between the blinds.

Oddly enough, this happens a lot. The fingers withdraw as soon as they think I spot them.

“Hello ma’am,” I say as soon as the woman opens the door. Despite the 80-degree-plus weather, she is wearing a set of long transparent scarves and long black flowing pants.

“What’s the total?” She says in an airy voice, reminding me of someone with their head in the clouds.

“Your total comes to 13.87*…” I say, digging out her pizzas from my large pizza bag.

“You know, I’m surprised you didn’t ask me about my profession,” She says, and then adds before I can open my mouth, “I’m a fortune teller.”

The sooner I can separate this woman from her money and get the hell away from here, the better, is what I think.

“I see,” is what I say.

“Your aura is very bright,” She continues, and for added effect she squints at me.

“My…aura…?” I say blankly. I actually had to look that word up when I got home today from work.

aura

1. a distinctive and pervasive quality or character; air; atmosphere: an aura of respectability; an aura of friendliness.
2. a subtly pervasive quality or atmosphere seen as emanating from a person, place, or thing.

“Yes, your aura my dear!” She says, her airy voice falters as I fail to see what a major cosmic event this is.

“Do you have visions at all? Visions that you mistake as dreams perhaps?” She says, regaining some of her airy tone rapidly.

“No,” I say shortly, trying to take her money. She pulls her hand back with very good reflexes. I try instead to give her cues to hand me the money, “Do you need any change ma’am?”

“Your future…so full of…” She trails off lightly, handing me a 20.

“Do you need any change?” I say with clenched teeth.

“Yes, a dollar would be alright,” She says. I fish the money out of my pocket.

“You will be a very successful computer person one day,” She says suddenly. I look up at her, her dollar in change halfway to her hand from mine as I stop. I spin around quickly to the car - it’s still idling in her driveway.

“Oh, that’s clever,” I say, turning back around and smiling at her, “You were able to deduce that I’m majoring in computers, how very manipulating of you!”

“Did not deduce it, my dear,” She said, her tone of voice at her annoying airy level again.

“Okay quick, what number am I thinking of?” I say sarcastically, squinting my eyes so they looked like they were shut.

“Oh very funny,” She snaps, her airy tone dropping immediately. Hey, I had the woman’s money, she can’t take it back now. “Let us all make fun of areas we do not understand of the mind!”

“It was 182, by the way,” I say, stalking away from her. I hear her slam the door as I get up to my car.

I get back to the Domino’s, and immediately burst out with my story to everyone.

“That’s how she greets all the drivers,” Jake, a fellow delivery driver, pipes up.

“Yeah well I find her annoying,” Brendon says, another driver.

“Why don’t you like her?” Jake says, frowning.

“You wouldn’t like her either if every time you went over there she kept on boasting what a horrible financial future I will be facing when Jupiter aligns with whomever - old gheezer.” Brendon says as Jake roars with laughter.

“Ah Brendon,” Jake says, adopting a horrible airy voice that sounds just like the fortune lady, “when Jupiter and Saturn are aligned, a beautiful woman with no nipples will be born in July.”

* No, I don’t remember what her total was - 13.87 was the first number that came to mind

Woah I haven’t written since this past Monday - whoops. I am having troubles locating my writers block, but don’t worry you’ll be the first to know when I find it again!

This week has been interesting - I bought a new car! A new car in the sense that it is my father’s ‘old’ car, in the sense that my car is broken, and in the sense that HE BOUGHT A NEW CAR -

Wonderfully exciting - he gave it to me for the practically stolen price of 2,000 dollars and the ownership of my old car for his own doing. Of course I obliged, and then gave him the money and RAN!

We met at the rest stop approximately halfway between where I am and my parents’ house. I parked kind of close to the car my father drove, my old car. My father got out and started rummaging inside the trunk.

“People probably think that we are dealing drugs or something,” I say to my father as a greeting. I look around nervously, and then scolded myself for looking so conspicuous. A couple getting out of a semi trailer looked at me suspiciously.

My father brings out a wireless power screwdriver and pumps it a few times - the screwdriver whines loudly as there is no resistance from a screw.

All I could think was: I bet those people are probably DIALING 9-1-1 FRANTICALLY RIGHT NOW.

He takes off the plates from my white Taurus and puts them on the now-my-new car. After setting that straight, he takes off his plates from my new car, and puts them on the white Taurus. I get my new registration card for the car and it’s a sealed shut deal.

There’s just one thing left.

“I didn’t exactly have 2,000 dollars in my spare change jar, dad,” I say, every stroke of my pen as I write ‘2,000′ causing me physical pain. The largest check I have ever written was for 4,800-ish dollars. It was to ISU for ONE semester - I lived in the dorms at that time. In the “Memo” Line for that check to ISU, I wrote: “FOR SEXUAL FAVORS”.

I decided upon what I should write in the memo line for the check for $2,000 for the new car, but it took a very long time. I wanted it to be something personal - something that I should remember for years to come when I look upon this day as the day I bought a car from my father and the day I give my white Taurus, the car I have had since I was SIXTEEN, to my father.

In the memo portion of the check, I write “BLOOD MONEY”, tear off the check from my checkbook, and hand it to my father.