A Mystic? Or Mystically Ridiculous?

I had an interesting encounter today. I was at the bakery, minding my own business, when an older looking woman in a muumuu asked me if I was a Capricorn.

"Um…no?" I told her. Why, are Capricorns supposed to be tall, dark, and handsome? Because then yes, I should be!

"Are you sure?" She asks.

I’m getting a little weirded out. I mean, I’m an adult, right? I have no apparent IQ or learning disabilities at first glance. I think. So why shouldn’t I know my own astrological sign? "Yeah, I’m a Leo," I tell her, trying, but failing, to smile. I end up giving her one of my nervous smiles.

"Step aside here, please. I’d really like to give you your fortune. You'll be interested in hearing this."

WTF?! I am not a believer in horoscopes and fortune-telling. Well, unless it’s one of those coin-operated fortune-tellers like they have in the movie Big. Then I’m a believer, because that movie was really cool. Is she going to tell me I'm going to die because I'm not a Capricorn? Or that thankfully, because I'm not, I'll be spared and live a full and happy and complete life with a handful of kids and a dog named Bluebell? I don't want to hear bad news. I don't even want to hear good news from a woman who asks random people for their fortune. I start to wonder if there's a hidden camera somewhere, and people are having a hearty laugh at my expense. I decide not to stick around to find out.

I’m shifting uncomfortably, and suddenly I feel guilty for not being a Capricorn. "No, thanks, I need to go." Another nervous smile.

And I walked out that door without even getting my roll with honey butter. How did I let an old muumuu wearing fortune-teller run me out of a bakery?

Because she was creepy as hell, that’s why.