Sometimes it's not supernatural. Sometimes it's just Manhattan.

The flip was in that Mediterranean wrap I ate?

About a month ago--October 7th to be exact (the day before I went to Boston to see the Vans--how could anyone forget?)--I was standing in front of the Pizza Cone (a pizza cone is a pizza in a cone) waiting for a friend. A woman who does not look unlike Norah Jones told me that I have crazy aura radiating from my pores or something like that. She gave me her card, which was just littered with misspellings and grammar errors. I dismissed her as a charlatan and went on with my business.
Today, while standing on 30th and 5th ave I see this woman trying to make her way across the street while traffic was approaching. I thought she was stupid. I also felt bitter because had she been someone not so attractive the taxis would have angrily honked in admonishment. I waited for the lights to change and she told me that my aura was radiating crap again. I told her that she had approached me before. She used this to support the hypothesis that my radiation was in fact meaningful, and you know, something, something, 'meant to be'. I decided I would give her a chance (Pass for Persistence). I told her I did not have much money (to which she just said $10--a minutes? a half hour? an hour?) and that I had an appointment to get to a 7 (she said that I will be done by then--done? like robbed blind? massacred?). Anyhow, I have an appointment at 6pm.
Shame to say, but for the next few hours I tried to let myself believe in... whatever you want to call it... I tried to superimpose meaning on the earlier incident, but then I walked into Starbucks and something set my head straight.
While I was standing in line at Starbucks I noticed the man standing in front of me. I have stood in line behind him before. How can I forget? He is a disturbingly handsome Indian man measuring well over six and a half feet tall! Oh... and his fashion sense. Perfectly tailored trousers. He wore nice trousers last time I stood behind him, too. Was this strange? I asked myself. Was this strange to run into two different strangers for the second time in the same day? Was it... fate? The answer is: hell, no. There is no supernatural or luck or fate or any of that bringing me back to these people. It is the size of mid-town. Mid-town is small. People cross streets. People go to Starbucks.
I am still going to that psychic read at 6 though...